


like bourbon in my coffee cup

by baeconandeggs, kozen



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: BAE2017, M/M, mentions of age gap relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-03 23:15:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10977417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeconandeggs/pseuds/baeconandeggs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kozen/pseuds/kozen
Summary: Chanyeol needs a ride to a wedding, and unexpectedly ends up in a road trip with his ex boyfriend.





	like bourbon in my coffee cup

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for this year's round of bae! a huge thanks to n and z for putting up with me and helping me with this, ily ♡ i've never been to any of the locations mentioned in this fic, but i hope i did them justice! the title comes from gallant's song "bourbon" :)

  
  
Chanyeol thinks he’s still dreaming when Jongdae’s car pulls up outside his apartment complex on Thursday morning. Because, the thing is, Jongdae isn’t the one driving it.  
  
Chanyeol walks up to Jongdae’s car and stands there, staring in silent astonishment at the person in the driver’s seat. This must be a dream, surely, because that’s the only place he’s seen this person in the past five years, but now here he is, flesh and blood, close enough that Chanyeol could touch him when the window rolls all the way down, as real as the quickening of his heartbeat with each second that passes.   
  
Byun Baekhyun smiles, and Chanyeol almost fears that his image will distort and evaporate with the movement, like a mirage in the desert.   
  
“Hey,” Baekhyun greets, easy and cheery, looking up at him under long, light brown bangs. “Long time no see.”  
  
“What are you doing here?” Chanyeol manages to ask in a hoarse whisper. “Where’s Jongdae?”  
  
“He had something important at work,” Baekhyun replies. “He didn’t tell you?”  
  
Chanyeol resents his ease, while he struggles to keep his voice steady. “Well, obviously, he didn’t,” he retorts, each word dripping with sarcasm. “Or I wouldn’t be asking. What are you doing here, anyway?”   
  
Baekhyun sighs, fingers loosening over the steering wheel. “I already told you, Jongdae had something important come up at work, so he asked me to drive you to Busan for the wedding.”   
  
“What—But—But why you?” Chanyeol asks. “I haven’t seen you in years.” Not after Chanyeol had been left alone and confused in his dorm room and Baekhyun had walked away the next day without a goodbye. “No offence.”  
  
“None taken.” Baekhyun’s smile stretches, but Chanyeol can see right through him. “I was also invited to the wedding, and Jongdae somehow found out about it, so he contacted me a few days ago. When I told him I was planning to go he offered to give me a ride and now since he can’t make it—” Baekhyun shrugs, lips now poised into a face splitting grin. “—he asked me to drive you to Busan and now we’re here, wasting time giving you explanations when we could already be on our way.”  
  
Chanyeol’s mouth opens and closes, lost on what to say next. He supposes it’s reasonable, but deep inside, the last thing he wants is to spend an entire weekend with the boy he’d fallen in love with at nineteen and had run away with his heart weeks short of his twentieth birthday with no explanation whatsoever.   
  
Chanyeol loads his luggage in the trunk, and gets on the passenger seat, giving Baekhyun a furtive glance after closing the door. The small uptick of Baekhyun’s lips reeks of smugness—maybe at how easily he’d given in, and Chanyeol’s disconcert glides smoothly into annoyance. He sinks further in his seat, crossing his arms like a petulant child, then the engine starts and the car is put into drive.  
  
  
  
  


❦❦❦

  
  
  
  
  
Jongdae answers on the fourth ring, and not long after his voice has cracked through the receiver, Chanyeol asks, “What the fuck, Jongdae?!”  
  
They’re at a gas station after driving for an hour. Chanyeol had remained in silence, restlessly tapping his foot and staring out of the window, and refusing to answer Baekhyun’s questions about  _how are you_  and  _what have you been up to_  as if he was a teenager instead of a grown adult. In the end, Baekhyun had given up, and turned up the radio to drown out the silence. He’d barely said anything when Chanyeol asked him to pull over at the gas station so he could call Jongdae.  
  
“I’m guessing Baekhyun has already picked you up,” Jongdae says, staticky and apologetic. “Listen, this really important meeting was moved to this Friday and I couldn’t miss it—”  
  
“A little heads-up would’ve been nice!” Chanyeol exclaims. “Instead I walked out to find Byun fucking Baekhyun waiting outside my apartment. It was so…” Chanyeol exhales, leaning back against the dirty wall of the gas station against his better judgement. “Weird, I guess.”  
  
“I know he was probably the last person you expected to see especially after what happened,” Jongdae says, and then, there’s a pause where Chanyeol knows Jongdae is turning over his next words in his head. “But when I found out he was coming, I had to…”  
  
“Please, don’t tell me you planned this,” Chanyeol grumbles, “because I’ll go back to Suwon and forget all about this stupid wedding.”   
  
“Hey, it’s Minseok’s wedding!” Jongdae berates him. “It’s not stupid, he’s probably breaking a sweat right now over flowers or something!”  
  
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Chanyeol relents, “but I just…” He sighs heavily, ruffling his hair in frustration. “I don’t know what to say, Jongdae. I haven’t seen him in years, and he just… shows up out of nowhere.”  
  
“And now you’ll have plenty of time to catch up,” Jongdae says, too cheery for Chanyeol’s mood. “I have to go now, but I’ll talk to you later. I’ll be there on Saturday morning.”  
  
“Jongdae, wait—” The lines goes dead and Chanyeol’s head thuds against the wall, ignoring the strange look from the lady entering the shop.   
  
Baekhyun is singing lowly to a song in the radio, when Chanyeol goes back to the car, arms full of candies and snacks that he drops unceremoniously on his lap. Sometime after Chanyeol blurted out that he needed to use the toilet and barrelled out of the car, Baekhyun had put on a beanie that makes him look way younger than his actual age—even though at first glance Baekhyun seems to have evaded the passing of time altogether—, and Chanyeol has to do a double-take to make sure he wasn’t somehow transported back in time to his second year of college.   
  
It still feels unreal, Baekhyun sitting right next to him in the car, Chanyeol still expects to wake up back at his apartment to realize it was all a dream and Jongdae is going to pick him up in a few minutes. Baekhyun had jumped back into his life so unexpectedly, Chanyeol has the ridiculous fear Baekhyun will fade away at any moment just as quickly.  
  
“Well, now we’re set for the entire winter with this,” Baekhyun says, picking up a chocolate bar from Chanyeol’s lap and unwrapping it with delicate fingers. “Thanks, Chanyeol.”  
  
It’s the first time Baekhyun has called him by his first name in the entire trip, and Chanyeol gulps, taking a large bite off a Snickers. “You’re welcome.”  
  
“Oh, he speaks!” Baekhyun teases, grinning lopsidedly. “‘Was afraid you lost your tongue or something. What a shame would that be.”  
  
Chanyeol sideglances Baekhyun, and exhales through his nose, deciding he’s better off not knowing if that was a double entendre or not. A small part of him feels bad that Baekhyun has had to put up with the 14-year-old version of Chanyeol for the entire trip, even if a larger part of him still blames him for trapping him in this awkward mess.   
  
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “It’s just been a weird day.” Starting from Baekhyun appearing like an illusion in his street, looking as beautiful and enticing as the day he’d left with Chanyeol’s heart.  
  
Baekhyun nods, flicking his bangs to the side with his fingers. “I guess that’s fair,” he concedes. “I’m sorry for showing up so out of the blue like this, and I get why you’re not over the moon to be on this trip with me of all people, but I needed a ride to Minseok’s wedding and Jongdae offered, so…”  
  
“It’s alright,” Chanyeol says, and the tension he can see in the set of Baekhyun’s mouth eases. “I understand… a little.”  
  
Baekhyun exhales his amusement through his nose, and it shouldn’t be attractive, at all. He’s struggling with opening a bag of gummy bears, and Chanyeol allows himself to take a better look at him. It’s a game of spotting the differences: there’s the obvious change of hair color, from black to light brown, and his face is a bit slimmer. But there’s also the other changes, those that only someone who knew Baekhyun inside out, like Chanyeol did, could see. There’s more confidence sitting on Baekhyun’s broad shoulders, but not like the youthful, dauntless kind of confidence that nineteen-year-old Baekhyun used to exude—it’s a more mature kind, one that Chanyeol can also read in the lines under his droopy eyes. And those eyes, that Chanyeol used to kiss whenever they shuttered close, look harder now, older, as though every mark that time hadn’t been able to imprint on Baekhyun’s skin had dwelled there.   
  
He clears the wistfulness clogging up his throat. “Let’s go now so you don’t have to drive in the dark.”  
  
Baekhyun stares at him like he wants to say something, eyes flickering with so many unsaid words. He waits for Baekhyun to speak, breath stilled in his throat, and pulse quickening at the thought that this might be what he’s been waiting to hear, the answers to the questions that have haunted him all these years… but then Baekhyun’s gaze returns to the windshield, his hand on the stick, and the car pulls out of the gas station and into the highway once again.   
  
And so it begins hour two of their road trip.   
  
  
  
  


❦❦❦

  
  
  
  
  
“I work at my mom’s restaurant,” Chanyeol says, near hour three of the trip. Baekhyun looks at him like he’s sprouted another head, before his eyes are back on the road. “You asked what I’ve been up to—I finished my master’s degree this year, and I’m working at my mom’s restaurant while I figure out what to do next.”  
  
His mother hadn’t been happy to hear of his plan—or lack thereof—, when he’d presented it to her. He’d expected to find a job easily after graduating with a shiny new diploma under his arm, but after weeks had passed and no one had gotten back to him, the crushing reality of being jobless had become more frightening than ever. It had been Yoora, his sister, who had seen him moping around his apartment, and mentioned one of the waitresses quitting at their mother’s restaurant recently. Her mother’s mouth had been a taut line on her face as she heard him, but she had agreed in the end. There was one less worry off his shoulders, though the rest of his life still extended before him like an unknown and frightful path.   
  
“Oh, that’s cool,” Baekhyun says, thin lips curving upwards. He looks genuinely relieved to have Chanyeol speak to him, and there’s a little pull of guilt at Chanyeol’s stomach. “How are you liking it taking orders from grumpy old men and old ladies checking you out?”  
  
“It’s not so bad,” Chanyeol laughs, remembering Mrs. Lim’s hands on his biceps every time she  _needs_  to thank him for the delicious food, even though he always makes sure to tell her his mom is the actual cook. “They always give me good tips.”  
  
“I bet you look cute with the waiter get-up, with a little bow on and those curls,” Baekhyun says, a playful smile on his lips. “Like a puppy.”  
  
There’s heat pooling in his cheeks and spreading to the tip of his ears, and Baekhyun laughs loudly, as though he knows what he’s doing to him. Chanyeol suspects his glare doesn’t have its desired effect when Baekhyun’s grin doesn’t slip even a fraction.  
  
“Don’t call me a ‘puppy’,” Chanyeol mutters, but a smile twitches in his lips at the sound of Baekhyun’s laughter filling the car.   
  
It dawns on him that this is the most comfortable he’s felt since their trip started, and something curls in his stomach, an awful lot like pleasure, at the thought that he’s put that smile on Baekhyun’s face.  
  
“What about you?” he asks, before the awkward silence stretches for too long. “What have you been up to?”  
  
“Me…” His fingers are dancing to a silent tune over the steering wheel again, and Chanyeol wonders vaguely if he’s nervous now that the spotlight is on him. It didn’t use to be like this, Chanyeol recalls—the Baekhyun he knew used to revel in the attention given to him, always the center of every group he was in, slipping in and out of conversations as easily as donning gloves, and taking the room like he owned it all along.  
  
Then again, five years have passed, and Chanyeol has changed, as everything inevitably does with time. Maybe Baekhyun has had his few changes, as well.   
  
“After I dropped out, I moved to Japan to finish my major,” Baekhyun answers in time, “then I graduated and I moved back here.”  
  
“You moved to Japan?” Chanyeol asks.   
  
Baekhyun nods briefly, without glancing at Chanyeol. “After that, my brother helped me find an apartment in Suwon and I’ve been working on a school near where I live since.”  
  
Chanyeol makes a sound of acknowledgment, even though he senses, by the tension on the broad set of Baekhyun’s shoulders and the white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, that it’s not the whole truth. There’s the burning question poised at his lips— _what actually happened_ —, but he holds it back, tucks it under his tongue for another moment.  
  
“That’s cool, man,” Chanyeol says. “Are you a teacher?”  
  
“Nah, just an assistant.” Baekhyun shrugs one shoulder, and a hint of a smile tugs at his lips. “I love working with kids—they might be little shits that drive you nuts more often than not, but it’s temporary, anyway.”  
  
“Oh, so what’s the next big step for Byun Baekhyun?” Chanyeol asks, unable to stop himself from teasing, especially if the smile that Baekhyun gives him is what he gets in return. “Have you thought about it yet?”  
  
Baekhyun is silent for a moment, staring out the windshield where the sky is a clear azure, expanding over them like a canvas. Eventually, he says, with a secretive little smile, “Who knows. Life is a mystery, anyway, right?”  
  
Chanyeol’s smile is short-lived as he stares out of his window. Life is a mystery, yes, but Byun Baekhyun has always been a bigger mystery for him, that not even years of trying to work out the puzzle that was his absence could solve. Chanyeol used to stay up all night wondering where Baekhyun was and what had actually happened that night, when Baekhyun had been so warm and soft under his hands, and how it had all changed in a matter of minutes.   
  
That night had been the last time Chanyeol had seen any trace of him until now.   
  
Now, he has an answer to one of the questions that used to haunt him after Baekhyun had disappeared, but not entirely, and Chanyeol feels like as soon as Baekhyun has opened, he’s shut down and put up all of his barbed-wire defenses once again.  
  
“Ah, I love this song!” Baekhyun hollers. The volume of the radio goes up, a cheesy pop song blaring from the speakers, and the moment of revelations is gone.   
  
Chanyeol slouches on his seat, his forehead pressed to the cold window glass, and forces himself to sleep through Baekhyun’s screeches to the song. It’s going to be a long ride.  
  
  
  
  


❦❦❦

  
  
  
  
Chanyeol wakes to a nudge on his shoulder and a finger poking his cheek. Chanyeol splutters awake, blinking blearily into the relative darkness of the car; he doesn’t know when he’d fallen asleep, but it must’ve been after Baekhyun had gone through Girls’ Generation’s entire repertoire in his phone, and had made a little detour in one of the towns they passed by to get something to eat. When the fog in his head clears, he realizes Baekhyun’s piercing eyes are on him, lips pursed in a pout, the lights of the dashboard lending him an otherworldly glow. The thought that he looks beautiful flashes in his mind, and Chanyeol blames it on his still-not-functioning brain.   
  
“We’re here, Sleeping Beauty,” Baekhyun sing-songs, voice saccharine. “We have to go check in. My back is killing me.”  
  
“Right,” Chanyeol mumbles. He wipes the dried saliva in the corner of his mouth, and levels a glare through his half-closed eyes at Baekhyun snickering next to him.   
  
The guesthouse is small and cozy, with its wooden floors and Western style beds, but Chanyeol thinks it will do for the one night and three days he’s supposed to be in Busan. A middle-aged woman greets them at the reception desk, eyeing them from head to toe, and stopping by the mess that is Chanyeol’s hair and sleep-crusted eyes. When her eyes meet Baekhyun’s, though, the frown dragging down her lips melts into a kind smile at once. Chanyeol doesn’t know whether to roll his eyes or laugh. Typical Byun Baekhyun, winning over everyone that crosses his path with little to no effort.  
  
“We’d like two rooms, please.” Baekhyun hands her his credit card. “We’re staying for three days.”  
  
“I’m sorry.” The woman’s mouth is downturned again. “We only have a single room with a double bed available at this moment.”  
  
Chanyeol’s eyes roll to the ceiling. He mutters, “Great”, but his misery is drown out by Baekhyun’s ebullient laugh.  
  
“It’s no problem,” Baekhyun says airily, unfazed by the look Chanyeol gives him. “We’ll take it.”  
  
“It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before,” Baekhyun tells him, when they’re carrying their bags upstairs. “I won’t jump your bones in the middle of the night, if that’s what you’re worrying about.” He exhales as they get to their room, dropping their bags in the floor, and stretching until his bones make a satisfying  _pop_. Then, he levels his eyes at Chanyeol, mischief threatening at the corners of his mouth, and Chanyeol already has an inkling of what’s coming. “Unless you want me to?”  
  
“Shut up, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol grunts, ignoring the way Baekhyun’s laugh makes his heart twist and shake. “You haven’t changed in the least.”  
  
“And neither have you,” Baekhyun returns. He bounces when he plops down on the bed, and lies back, flailing his arms and legs, as if making a snow angel. “You’ve gotten even more handsome in the past few years, as hard as it is to believe, but you’re still the cute, silent type when you’re around me.”   
  
“You’re still as mouthy and flirty as I remember,” Chanyeol says, pacing around the room and checking everything in sight, but really, he’s just trying to avoid Baekhyun’s eyes following him. “But the hair is new.”  
  
“Thanks,” says Baekhyun, even though Chanyeol hadn’t meant it as a compliment. He’s almost tempted to point it out, but he’s distracted by Baekhyun taking off his beanie to ruffle his hair, a halo of light brown around his head over the white of the bedspread. “I had it dyed after I left my sugar daddy.”  
  
Chanyeol splutters, wringing the curtains in his grasp. “What—”  
  
Baekhyun cackles, high-pitched and unhinged, throwing a hand over his mouth, but doing little to stop the sound. “Your face—” he says, breathless, as he sobers, “—you’re still the same gullible puppy I used to know.”  
  
“Stop calling me puppy,” Chanyeol mumbles, scowling at Baekhyun’s smile, bright eyes blinking up at him with leftover mirth in the corners of his mouth. “I’m twenty-five. Hardly a puppy anymore.”  
  
“Alright, puppy.” His hand has settled over his chest now, and his eyes soften in tandem with his smile. “Whatever you want.”  
  
“I’m gonna take a shower,” Chanyeol announces, in lieu of a response; Baekhyun’s smile still has a way of melting him inside, like an ice cube on a scalding pavement, and he needs to step out of the sun unless he dissolves completely.   
  
When he walks back into the room some time later, Baekhyun has slipped under the covers, only a tuft of brown hair visible over his cocoon of blankets. Chanyeol has changed into a loose shirt and sweatpants, and pads barefoot to the bed, looking down at the lump that is Baekhyun, hearing his soft, steady breathing, intervened by short yapping. Even in his sleep Baekhyun is noisy, and the sight unfurls a fond smile on Chanyeol’s lips that he taps down as soon as he realizes.  
  
He lifts the covers of his side carefully, gently lying next to Baekhyun, hyper-alert of any sign that he might’ve woken Baekhyun up. Once he’s safely tucked in, he turns to face the wall, and waits for sleep to come and soothe his sore muscles from sitting for so long in the passenger’s seat, but the way Baekhyun has gone still and silent next to him brings him closer to consciousness.  
  
“Are you sleeping?” Baekhyun asks. His voice is rough from sleep, and Chanyeol barely suppresses a shiver.  
  
“Yes,” he answers, dragging the covers up to his ears. “So go back to sleep.”  
  
Baekhyun chuckles, shaking the mattress under him. “I’ll warn you now—if you snore I’m kicking you out of the bed.”   
  
“I don’t snore,” Chanyeol grumbles, words pressed to his pillow. “Shut up.”  
  
“You do too,” he insists. “You used to wake me up in the middle of the night because you were so loud, and you wouldn’t stop until I moved you into the right position.”  
  
The amusement he hears in Baekhyun blends into a flush at the base of Chanyeol’s throat, and he genuinely wonders if one of his boyfriends was ever bothered by his snoring. He stops himself before he gets too far. “Thanks, I guess. Now go back to sleep.”  
  
A beat passes, and Baekhyun breaks the silence again. “Hey, Chanyeol.”   
  
His name spills softly out of Baekhyun’s mouth, but Chanyeol hears it loud and clear, amplified by the stillness of the room. Even with his sleep-addled brain, Chanyeol can still make out the hesitation in Baekhyun’s voice, like when he used to fidget with Chanyeol’s coat lapels right before asking him on a date.   
  
“What?”  
  
“I’m sorry I never tried to contact you all those years ago,” Baekhyun says, a hair’s breadth above a whisper. “It was pretty shitty of me, when I was the one who left so suddenly.”  
  
There’s a faint tightness in Chanyeol’s chest at the memory of waking up that morning with no trace of Baekhyun in his room, in the dorm, in the entire college. Of the sadness on Baekhyun’s roommate, Kyungsoo, when he had opened the door, and his hand over Chanyeol’s arm.  _I don’t think he’s coming back, Chanyeol_.  
  
“It’s alright,” says Chanyeol, and surprisingly, he means it; he’s had enough time to come to terms with his first official boyfriend leaving unexpectedly after seeing each other for more than half a year. It’s one of the wonders of time—Chanyeol had stopped lying awake in his bed for nights on end thinking about Baekhyun, and eventually, he’d stopped looking into coffee shops’ windows every time he passed by one.   
  
His dreams are another thing, though. No matter how long it passed, Baekhyun still appeared in his dreams often, sometimes looking away from Chanyeol so that he could only make out his shoulders and the slope of his nose, but the sadness in his eyes stroke a chord deep within Chanyeol that it was all he could think of during the day. Other times, he looked exactly as he had when they dated, his smile bright and eyes twinkling, so vivid and real Chanyeol could hold him in his arms, but when he woke up his hand would be reaching towards empty air, and the ache that lingered afterwards kept him up the rest of the night. Those were the worst dreams.  
  
He doesn’t tell Baekhyun any of this, though. “I didn’t try to contact you either, anyway.”  
  
“Probably because you were mad at me,” Baekhyun tells him. “And I get it, you had all the right to be angry at me, honestly. It’s just that...” He sighs, shifting on his side. “It’s just that things were a little complicated back then.”  
  
It’s a shot of awakeness right into Chanyeol’s spine. He blinks, the drowsiness ebbing away from him until he’s wide awake, Baekhyun’s words echoing in his head as though they were bouncing off the walls of the room. “How? How were things complicated?”   
  
There’s a long pause, where all he can hear is the sound of Baekhyun’s even breathing, and he sits up in the bed to see Baekhyun sleeping peacefully next to him. The sight stirs something warm inside of him, rooting itself in his chest, at war with the confusion deluging Chanyeol’s mind.   
  
He whispers into the still room, “What exactly happened, Baekhyun?”   
  
  
  
  


❦❦❦

  
  
  
  
  
Chanyeol met Baekhyun at the start of his second year of college, when Chanyeol was a couple of months shy of nineteen. The trees were bursting with color, the grass fresh and slick, waving with the breeze of the last remains of summer. Chanyeol was lying on his belly in the reprieve of classes, rolling the stem of a small flower between his fingers, while Jongdae whined about his Philosophy professor being a douche.  
  
Chanyeol lifted his head just as a boy crossed the quad, and Chanyeol took notice for his mere presence. He sauntered his way towards them with such confidence, it seemed easy, almost effortless, breath trapped in his throat the entire time the boy greeted Jongdae and sat down next to him. He swept stray hairs off his forehead with a flick of his wrist, and took off his sunglasses that looked as expensive as Chanyeol’s textbooks this semester. His lips were two pink petals, soft and thin, the lower lip puckered and made to be kissed.  
  
Chanyeol had never seen someone as graceful and beautiful as him.  
  
When his droopy eyes landed on Chanyeol, his heart had started drumming on double-beat. “Hey,” the boy had said, his voice like the summer breeze rustling the leaves above. “I’m Baekhyun, and you?”  
  
Chanyeol had scrambled to sit up. He blurted out, “Chanyeol,” with a jerky nod, and sent Jongdae a glare when he snickered behind his hand.  
  
The boy—Baekhyun—had looked him up and down, and whatever he’d found, had made him smile brightly, eyes disappearing into crescents, nose crinkled in delight. It had been like a blow straight to Chanyeol’s gut, knocking the air out of him.   
  
“Hello, Chanyeol.” He’d moved a little closer, and Jongdae’s eyes had sharpened the slightest at the motion. But Chanyeol’s attention was solely focused on Baekhyun’s small hand now settled on his knee. “You’re very cute.”  
  
Chanyeol had spluttered, blood rushing to his face when Baekhyun laughed airily at his awkwardness. Chanyeol thought he’d never seen someone laugh like Baekhyun did, and the sound had seeped through his skin, lodging warm somewhere in his ribcage.  
  
“Forget about him,” Jongdae had told him three weeks later in their dorm room. “That guy sleeps with anything that moves.”  
  
“I thought he was your friend?” Chanyeol asks, distractedly. He’s reading a chapter for his lecture that he left for the last minute. “Is that a way to talk about your friend?”  
  
“He is, but…” Jongdae had given him one of those looks tinged with exasperation, like he didn’t know what to do with Chanyeol or himself. “But he’s also rich and has slept with half of his department, and you’re so nice and naive sometimes. I’m just trying to look after you.”  
  
Chanyeol had heard the rumors; he knows Baekhyun sleeps around a lot, that he goes home accompanied more often than not. Or used to, at least. Chanyeol had been a giddy mess when Baekhyun had stood on his tiptoes to give him a goodnight kiss on the cheek when they’d all gone for noreabang last weekend, and how his mask of confidence had wavered a fraction when he’d asked Chanyeol on a date next Saturday night.  
  
“You don’t need to take care of me, Jongdae,” Chanyeol had reassured him. He’d thought of the earnestness in Baekhyun’s too-wide grin when Chanyeol had said yes, and decided right then and there he wanted to believe in it. “I’m going to be fine.”  
  
  
  
  


❦❦❦

  
  
  
  
  
Chanyeol wakes to sunlight in his eyes and too much warmth crushed against his chest, his face buried in its softness. It takes a while for Chanyeol to register that the source of the warmth is too solid to be a pillow, and since when can pillows move and snore—   
  
Chanyeol jerks back to see brown hair in his vision, Baekhyun’s arm wrapped around him tight as a vice. His own arms are draped over Baekhyun’s waist, legs tangled with Baekhyun’s slimmer ones, Baekhyun’s mouth breathing hotly into his neck.  _Shit, shit, shit, oh god_ —Chanyeol had forgotten Baekhyun was a serial cuddler, even though it had been a detail that Chanyeol treasured. He tries to wrench free of Baekhyun’s arms, only for Baekhyun to move closer, mumbling something incoherently into Chanyeol’s skin, his lips leaving goosebumps in their wake. Chanyeol is sweaty a mess, thinking of a thousand of ways of how he could break free, when Baekhyun stirs awake and shifts in his arms.   
  
A pair of sleepy eyes blink slowly up at him, cheeks and pink lips puffy, and Chanyeol’s heart rams against his ribcage, seemingly trying to escape its confines as well.   
  
“Hi,” Baekhyun says, voice raw from sleep, and his morning breath should be disgusting, but Chanyeol is fully focused on Baekhyun’s lips quirking into a beautiful smile once he takes note of their positions. “Oops, I think someone wanted some cuddles last night.”  
  
Chanyeol pulls away like he’s been burned, arms sticking to his sides and legs dangling precariously close to the edge of the bed, back arched to put what little distance can be between them. Baekhyun’s arms stay wrapped loosely around his torso, though, his face mere inches away from Chanyeol’s, smile bemused at Chanyeol’s obvious—and  _futile_ —attempt at trying to wiggle free of his embrace. “So—Sorry, I—”  
  
“It’s okay,” Baekhyun assures him. “I like cuddling whenever I sleep in the same bed with someone.”  
  
“Uh—Could you—” Chanyeol gestures between them, and Baekhyun laughs as he scoots away, but his hands remain folded in the little space he leaves behind. “Thanks—I’m sorry for—”  
  
“Stop apologizing.” His smile makes little crinkles appear at the corner of his eyes, the sunlight from the window pouring over the crown of his head, and Chanyeol has the sudden urge to reach out and  _touch_. He clasps his hands to stop himself, but the action goes awry when Baekhyun takes a hold of his hands to play absently with his fingers. “It’s not your fault I latch onto anything remotely similar to a body when I sleep. It’s been like that since I was a kid anyways.”  
  
“I know,” Chanyeol acquiesces before his brain catches up with his mouth. “You’ve always been like that.”  
  
The surprise on Baekhyun’s face blends into a pleased smile in a millisecond, and Chanyeol’s pulse quickens, spurred on by Baekhyun’s watchful eyes on him.   
  
Chanyeol remembers lazy afternoons curled up in his bed, tangled together until Chanyeol forgot where he ended and where Baekhyun began, his hand splayed over Baekhyun’s soft stomach, Baekhyun dropping intermittent kisses over his neck and shoulder while he talked endlessly about nothing and everything. Back then, it was as though they couldn’t keep their hands to themselves around each other, and Chanyeol had attributed it to teenage hormones, but even now, Chanyeol is finding it hard to fully concentrate on anything other the warmth of Baekhyun’s hands, the softness of his skin, and…  
  
“—Chanyeol, Earth to Chanyeol.” Baekhyun is waving his hand in front of his face, and Chanyeol snaps out of his memories to the Baekhyun of the present, smiling at him like he’s a hopeless little thing. “What were you thinking so hard about? I thought I saw smoke coming out of those dumbo ears for a minute there.”  
  
“Let’s not talk about dumbo ears.” Chanyeol pulls on Baekhyun’s ear, earning him a loud yelp. Chanyeol only has a moment to laugh, though, before Baekhyun is leaning forward and sinking his teeth into his shoulder in retaliation, Chanyeol yelling as he shoves a laughing Baekhyun away to rub his hand over the affected area. “What the fuck, Baekhyun—why did you do that—”   
  
“I don’t know, I just felt like it,” Baekhyun breathes through his choked laughter. When he sobers, he gives Chanyeol an odd look, a little impish smile pulling at his lips. “And, as I recall, you didn’t mind me biting you in some parts of your body when we were dating.”  
  
“Oh God, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol grunts, closing his eyes, forcing the blush creeping up his neck to stop. “You really haven’t changed  _at all_.”   
  
Baekhyun’s boisterous laughter fills the room. He stands up in the bed, patting Chanyeol’s arm before walking over him, and planting his bare feet on the floor with a thud. “Nope, not in the slightest,” he says, a proud smile gracing his lips. He pads to his bag, and wiggles his butt as he rummages through it. “I’m gonna take a shower, and I assume you don’t wanna come with me, so I won’t bother asking.” He pulls out a towel among his clothes and throws it over his shoulder as he turns to Chanyeol. “But maybe one of those cute Chinese boys we saw yesterday when he we checked in would like to come.”  
  
He gives Chanyeol a wide grin before he leaves the room. Chanyeol buries his face in his pillow, drowning out his grunts in the fabric, and wondering  _how_  he finds himself currently right back into Baekhyun hell once again after all these years.  
  
  
  
  


❦❦❦

  
  
  
  
  
In the afternoon, they go to the hotel where the wedding will take place, and the reception after the ceremony. Minseok is standing in the middle of the room, Sunyoung’s arm looped through his, an amused smile on her lips as she watches Minseok supervising carefully every little movement of the staff.  
  
“Now there’s someone I haven’t seen in a long time,” Minseok says when he sees them, eyes sharpening on Baekhyun.  
  
“Hello, hyung,” Baekhyun greets cheerily. “And hello, Sunyoung. You look even prettier than I remember, if that’s possible.”  
  
“Oh, shush you!” Sunyoung cups her face with a hand, smile bashful. “You’re still a shameless flirt.”  
  
Minseok and Sunyoung had been seniors when Chanyeol was a sophomore in college, and they’d already been dating for a year when he’d met them through Baekhyun at a party. Chanyeol and Baekhyun had been dating for three months back then, and he still got shy when Baekhyun did so much as hold his hand in public, hurrying to kiss his cheek to double-kill him. Despite his shyness, though, Chanyeol was already planning a visit to his mom’s restaurant so Baekhyun could meet her and Yoora.  
  
“Hey, hey, don’t flirt with my fiancé,” Minseok threatens, but the crooked curve of his lips belies his tone. “I already had to fight off other guys to get her!”  
  
“Honey, don’t talk like you’re some caveman,” Sunyoung tells him, and Chanyeol had never seen Minseok turn so small under someone’s glare. Both he and Baekhyun snicker and it’s their turn to become minuscule under Minseok’s gaze.  
  
“Hey, I’m still the hyung,” Minseok mutters, and Baekhyun gives him a sweet smile.   
  
“Of course, you are, hyung,” Baekhyun says, fluttering eyelids and saccharine tone. Chanyeol has half a mind to berate him again for flirting, but he catches himself, remembers he has no say in what Baekhyun does or doesn’t.  
  
“So,” Sunyoung says, after patting Minseok’s arm comfortingly, “Minseok thought you’d have killed each other during the trip.”  
  
“I did not!” Minseok gives her a wide-eyed look that makes Baekhyun laugh. “That was you and Jongdae if I remember correctly.”  
  
“Yeah, well, we are here and in one piece,” Chanyeol says, gesturing to both of them. “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t consider it at one point.”  
  
Chanyeol laughs at Baekhyun’s elbow digging into his side, and the dirty look he gives him in response. “And here I thought you were enjoying my delightful presence in this trip.”  
  
“You thought wrong,” Chanyeol quips, nudging him back, unable to contain a teasing grin. “I’m at my wit’s end here.”  
  
The statement holds more truth than he would like to admit, but not in the sense he would like everyone to believe; after his shower, Baekhyun had come back to the room with droplets falling down the column of his neck, pooling on the dip of his clavicles, and Chanyeol had bolted it out of there to claim the shower before Baekhyun even got a word out.   
  
A laugh ripples through him when Baekhyun hits him lazily on the chest, and exclaims, “Oh, cut it out!”  
  
Chanyeol’s hand catches Baekhyun’s fist without thinking, mesmerized by the smile on Baekhyun’s face, and it’s not until his eyes meet Minseok’s watching them, that he lets go. There’s no accusation in Minseok’s gaze, but there isn’t else much to read in it, and Chanyeol flushes under its weight, like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t.  
  
“I think we should go before it gets too late,” Chanyeol says, addressing Baekhyun, but not turning towards him.   
  
“Where are you guys going?” Sunyoung asks, a curious, glossy smile as she looks between the two of them. “You guys don’t wanna stay around for a little bit?”  
  
“I have to buy a new suit and Chanyeol’s coming with me,” Baekhyun responds, his mouth dragging into a funny grimace. “I forgot mine back home.”  
  
Minseok’s brow arches, his mouth quirking in a way that says he’s not surprised. “You better not forget your invitation tomorrow or I’ll make sure you won’t be allowed in.”  
  
“Hyung!” Baekhyun whines, pink lower lip poking out for full effect. “How am I going to miss the most important day of your life!”  
  
After Chanyeol has successfully dragged Baekhyun off Minseok, they’re on their way to the tailor’s shop that Sunyoung had recommended them. Baekhyun chatters away in the ride there, changing the songs in the radio before they’re done, and Chanyeol lets him, easing himself in the familiarity that Baekhyun’s voice carries, despite the alarms ringing faintly in his head.  
  
Baekhyun tries on two different suits before he settles on a light grey one that fits over his thighs perfectly, and hangs off his broad shoulders with poise. With Baekhyun’s suit purchased, Chanyeol has a mind of going back to the guesthouse, until Baekhyun’s hand stops him before he can walk back to the car.  
  
“I want to show you something before we head back,” Baekhyun says. His eyes are trained on his fingers draped over Chanyeol’s wrist, and then flick to Chanyeol’s after a moment. “And we can grab something to eat afterwards. You know, as a thank you for helping me out choosing a suit.”  
  
It comes with all easy confidence that Baekhyun wears like a second skin, but Chanyeol can see his hesitance in the teeth worrying his bottom lip while he waits for Chanyeol to answer.   
  
“Sure,” says Chanyeol, with a smile, easy and small. “But I’ll go only if you pay for it.”  
  
Baekhyun rolls his eyes and Chanyeol chokes on his laughter as Baekhyun grabs his hand to lead him to the car. “You’re going to leave me living in the streets at this point, Park Chanyeol,” he says. “But if that’s what it takes…”   
  
He leaves his sentence unfinished and Chanyeol doesn’t press, following Baekhyun and trying to stop his heart from running out of his mouth.  
  
  
  
  


❦❦❦

  
  
  
  
  
Baekhyun takes him to a place near the coastline where there’s an amazing view of the Gwan Ahn bridge. The sun is starting to set in the horizon, tinting the sky in a blend of pink and orange, the ocean calmly lapping the shore and rocking the boats along the decks. It’s a breathtaking sight, if Chanyeol has to be honest with himself.   
  
“Is this where you wanted to go?” he asks, when they’re strolling down the promenade.  
  
“Don’t you like it? Baekbeom told me about this place when I told him I was coming here.” There’s a dreamy look on Baekhyun’s face. The bridge’s lights are coming to life, a ripple of sparkles over the water. “And I got to give it to him—it’s quite beautiful.”  
  
“It is,” Chanyeol agrees quietly. He’s watching Baekhyun take in the sight, the way the dying sunlight paints his hair a molten gold, eyes melting into a soft tawny. He forces himself to look away before Baekhyun catches him staring, and ignores the traitorous skipping of his heartbeat. “It’s very beautiful.”  
  
Baekhyun sits on top of the steps lining the promenade, which serves as a makeshift place for picnics; a group of middle-aged women are sharing snacks and drinks over loud conversation a few feet from them.   
  
Baekhyun watches on amusedly, and then turns to Chanyeol on his other side. “I’m sad I didn’t bring anything to drink now.” He rummages in the front pockets of his sweatshirt. “All I have is gum.”  
  
“You should be careful of your alcohol intake, one-shot-wonder,” Chanyeol teases him. “I don’t feel like dragging you back to the guesthouse.”  
  
“I’m appalled you’d utter such a lie,” Baekhyun says dramatically, a hand flat on his chest. “When you can’t take your alcohol, either. I recall many times nursing you while you threw up in someone’s bathroom and taking care of you the next morning.”  
  
Chanyeol scowls at Baekhyun’s knowing smile. “I had to take care of you when you drank too much because you’d be up on a table dancing if I wasn’t.”  
  
“Yes, that’s true,” Baekhyun laughs, somewhat abashedly, and Chanyeol’s heart does another impressive flip. “Thanks for taking care of me, anyhow.”  
  
“You’re welcome,” Chanyeol says quietly. It feels like they’ve come into a standstill, and Chanyeol doesn’t make an effort to say anything; he just lets Baekhyun watch the sun drop lower in the horizon, painting the ocean a milky purple. Baekhyun seems lost in his thoughts, and for once, Chanyeol wishes he could hear what’s on his mind. His own mind is travelling back to a moment in college, when he, Baekhyun, Jongdae and Jinri, his girlfriend at the time, had driven to the beach on a weekend. They had stayed there long after the moon slowly waltzed in and everyone had packed their things to go home.   
  
Baekhyun sat in his lap as they watched the sunset, and his lips were a searing brush over his ear when he whispered,  _There’s nowhere I would like to be but right here with you._  
  
The breeze sends a shiver through him. He blinks back the fog of his memories, which leave him with an unsettling need to draw Baekhyun closer and hold him, just like he had back then.  
  
“Are you cold?” Baekhyun asks. “Jongdae said there are blankets in the car.”  
  
The concern in Baekhyun’s voice grips Chanyeol’s heart in a fist. “No, I’m okay,” he mumbles. “Thank you.”   
  
“You know, when I lived in Japan...” Baekhyun sighs, looking at his hands fiddling with the hem of his sweatshirt. “After I left… it wasn’t a very easy time.”  
  
“Why?” The question is at the tip of Chanyeol’s tongue— _why did you leave in the first place?_ —, but he lacks the courage to push them out of his mouth.  
  
Baekhyun bites his bottom lip, and then says, in a very quiet voice, “I was sad because I missed it a lot here. I missed...” He clears his throat. “So Baekbeom had this idea to take me to one of those bunny cafes in Tokyo to cheer me up.” A laugh bubbles out of him. “But then one of the bunnies bit my hand and I didn’t wanna go back. So we started going to baseball matches and it sort of became a tradition since then.”  
  
Chanyeol’s smile is instant. The image of Baekhyun pouting while holding a bunny in his lap is too adorable to withstand.  
  
He’s hit with the relief of knowing that Baekhyun wasn’t alone while they weren’t together, just like Chanyeol had Jongdae and Yoora. It bewilders him. “I don’t know much about baseball, but I guess that’s great.”  
  
“With those legs you’d be a danger in the fields,” Baekhyun jokes.   
  
“Hey, I’ll let you know I played soccer in high school and I was very good,” Chanyeol says. “I mean, only in PE classes but still…”  
  
Baekhyun snorts. “I bet you looked cute in shorts, running after the ball like a baby giraffe.”  
  
“Shut up,” Chanyeol mutters. His ears are on fire, so he changes gears. “Anyways, Baekbeom sounds like a nice guy.”  
  
“He is pretty great.” The evasiveness in his tone is evident, and Chanyeol knows better than to push. Baekhyun stands up, suddenly, and jumps down the steps to stand in the promenade. Throwing a smile over his shoulder at Chanyeol, he says, “Now, let’s go for that dinner.”  
  
  
  
  


❦❦❦

  
  
  
  
  
“So, what was the focus of your master’s degree?” Baekhyun asks, around a mouthful of meat. He covers his mouth, giggling, when Chanyeol’s mouth twists in disgust. “Ah, excuse me, Mr. I-eat-like-a-three-year-old. You’ve had sauce all over your mouth for the past half-hour.”  
  
Chanyeol rolls his eyes and snatches a napkin from the holder to wipe his mouth, sending Baekhyun a glare as he laughs at Chanyeol. “Can you just eat your food so you’ll stop talking?” Baekhyun makes a show of chewing his food and swallowing, grinning from ear to ear when he’s done. “How do you even fit all that food into your mouth without choking? It’s probably not even possible.”  
  
“I’ve managed to fit bigger things in my mouth,” Baekhyun ripostes. He’s wearing a wicked grin, and Chanyeol almost spits his beer all over the table. “And I still don’t have a gag reflex—if that’s of any interest to you.”  
  
“God, you’re insufferable,” Chanyeol mutters, picking another piece of meat from the grill with his chopsticks. “I should’ve left you back at the hotel with Minseok-hyung and Sunyoung.”  
  
“Who would’ve paid for your meal, then?”   
  
“I can pay for my own meals, thanks,” Chanyeol says, a smirk on his lips. “I’m not nineteen anymore. I don’t work forty plus hours a week for a guy to pay for me.”  
  
“Well, consider me a gentleman,” Baekhyun retorts, shrugging. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”  
  
“My focus was Music Production,” Chanyeol says. He lowers his eyes to his beer, picking on the label with his nail, so as to not see whatever look is on Baekhyun’s face. He’s used to be on the receiving end of skeptical looks, the condescending comments about  _practicality_. He’s heard it all, but he doesn’t expect the hum coming from across the table, full of understanding.   
  
“Wow, you’re really following your dreams, aren’t you.” He grabs his beer by the neck with loose fingers, shaking his head. “That’s really admirable, Chanyeol.”  
  
The smile Baekhyun directs him is bright enough that Chanyeol has to look away again, as if he was staring directly into the sun. “Thanks,” he says. He smiles sheepishly, scratching the side of his neck. “Not many people think like that.”  
  
Baekhyun tucks his hand under his chin, head tilted as he regards Chanyeol. “You’ve never been like most people. It’s something I’ve always admired about you, to be honest.”  
  
Baekhyun has always possessed the ability to hand out compliments with ease, and Chanyeol has never been good at receiving them like normal people. He covers his face with his hands, and groans, “Shut up.” He glares at Baekhyun over his hands, and then takes a sip of his beer to wash away the fluttering in his chest. “No luck in finding a job in Suwon, though.” Chanyeol had looked through his email that morning to find that none of the jobs he’d applied to weeks earlier had gotten back to him. “That’s why I’m working at my mom’s restaurant right now. It was Yoora’s idea at first, only for a couple of months, but I still haven’t found anything else.” Chanyeol sighs, his shoulders slouching. “My mom really wasn’t happy with me.”  
  
“Your mom is really nice,” Baekhyun says. “She’s just probably worried about you.” There’s a bitter smile twitching his lips. “Unlike my parents.”  
  
Chanyeol wants to ask, but by the look on Baekhyun’s face, he senses the topic is better left untouched. “I guess so.” His lips quirk a little. “I’m a little worried about myself, too. Somehow I didn’t imagine my life like this at twenty-five.”  
  
“No one’s life is like you pictured it when you were young. Everyone takes some time to figure things out,” Baekhyun says. He bites his lip for a moment, hesitating. “I got a job offer in Seoul. If I accept it, I’d be moving there next month.”  
  
Chanyeol’s breath catches. “Oh,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting that.”  
  
“Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Baekhyun mumbles. “I couldn’t find the right moment, and it seems perfectly good time now that we’re talking about jobs, right?”  
  
The waitress appears by their table, cutting Baekhyun’s ramblings short, and Chanyeol swallows whatever dumb response he had at the tip of his tongue. “Excuse me, sir, here’s your bill. We’re about to close for the night in a few minutes.”  
  
Chanyeol looks around; the restaurant is empty except for the two of them and the waiters carrying trays with dirty plates back to the kitchen. Baekhyun smiles as he hands the waitress the money and a tip for her, winking over his shoulder as they leave the place. Baekhyun lets out a loud yelp at Chanyeol pinching his side, muttering  _shameless flirt_  under his breath.  
  
Droplets prickle his face when they step outside, catching on his hair as he looks up at the sky. There are people squeezed together under an umbrella, or hurrying to get out of the curtain of drizzle covering the streets. As he makes to walk back to the car, Baekhyun drags him back by the hood of his sweatshirt under the cover of a nearby shop without a word.  
  
“You know we could just go back to the guesthouse instead of standing here in the cold,” Chanyeol says, rubbing his arms over his jacket, but doing little to stop his shivering. “I’m really looking forward to a hot shower right now.”  
  
“Relax,” Baekhyun says, pulling out a cigarette packet and a lighter from the back of his jeans. He lights a stick by encasing the lighter with his free hand, exhaling a swirl of smoke when he puts the lighter back in his pocket. “Since when do you to go to bed so early, Grandpa Park? You still have some time to go before turning seventy, you know.”  
  
“I do know,” Chanyeol retorts, “but I’d really appreciate to get some feeling back into my hands.”  
  
Baekhyun makes an exasperated sound at the back of his throat, and leaves his cigarette in his mouth to grasp Chanyeol’s hands, rubbing them together to heat them up. “There,” he mumbles, the cigarette trembling between his lips. “Better now?”  
  
“A little,” Chanyeol mutters. The cold has seeped away from his face, his cheeks burning under Baekhyun’s touch. “I thought you’d quit, by the way.”  
  
Baekhyun chuckles through his nose. “I’ve tried a few times, but it never lasts more than a month.” Chanyeol’s eyes hone in on his pretty lips wrapped around the stick, held between his index and middle finger, and he wonders how every little thing Baekhyun does can rouse this much fascination in him. “Old habits die hard, right?”  
  
Chanyeol swallows, forcing himself to look at the neon signs of the shops reflecting on the puddles in the pavement. “Right.”  
  
There’s a lull in the conversation, where Baekhyun observes people meander about the streets, the cars speeding by on the road. Chanyeol throws Baekhyun furtive glances, watching the smoke swirl around him, and rush through in silver tendrils from his nose, the sign above them bathing half of his face in a soft pink light.   
  
 _He’s leaving again_ , Chanyeol thinks. He’ll be gone from his life again, and Chanyeol is a fool if he thought Baekhyun would stay this time. Somehow it seems fitting that a boy who never belonged to a place wouldn’t let his roots grow anywhere.  _Old habits die hard_.  
  
Baekhyun startles him out of his reverie. “So, mind if I ask you something?”  
  
A sliver of smoke spills from Baekhyun’s lips, as he regards Chanyeol with a tilt of his head, and under the weight of his stare, Chanyeol laughs nervously. “You already did,” he replies. Baekhyun snorts, taking another drag of his cigarette and tipping his face away from Chanyeol to exhale. “But ask away! We have all the time in the world, apparently.”  
  
“Are you seeing someone?” Baekhyun asks, casually, as if he was asking Chanyeol about the weather, and he had no reason for his heartbeat to trip over itself.  
  
“Um, no, I’m not.” Chanyeol shoves his hands in his pockets, going for nonchalance, but the little crack in his voice gives him away. He remembers Jongdae telling him he has all the gracefulness of a gorilla. “I haven’t for a while now, actually. Almost a year, I think.” He waits a beat, then takes the plunge. “Are you?”  
  
“Nope.” Baekhyun shakes his head, ashes scattering on the pavement from a tap of his finger on the cigarette. The tip burns amber when he takes another drag and Chanyeol feels its blaze under Baekhyun’s stare. “What happened? If it isn’t too intrusive of a question, of course.”  
  
“It’s actually really dumb,” Chanyeol starts. “The guy I was seeing got a dog like five months into our relationship and I never told him I was allergic, so I kept making excuses to not go to his house. But the thing is—he always had dog hairs on his clothes, and even hugging him made my nose clog up. He’d ask me why I always teared up when he was too close to me.” Chanyeol chuckles at the memory. “When I told him it was because of his dog, I knew he was upset, because his dog was basically his child. Then, a few days later, he calls me to tell me this isn’t going to work out if I can’t be near his dog. So he broke up with me.”   
  
Chanyeol remembers Jongin’s sweet smile dropping when he’d told him about his allergies, and how Chanyeol, deep down, had expected Jongin to break up with him. He’d foreseen it all along. Every time he started dating someone he’d think about why their break up would be, like guessing the ending of a movie after the first few scenes. So, when Jongin had left, Chanyeol hadn’t been too surprised, and chalked it up to the natural course of things—people leave, the seasons change, and life goes on.  
  
The look of disbelief on Baekhyun’s face draws a laugh out of Chanyeol. “All because of his dog?” Chanyeol nods, shrugging. “People are really weird.” Baekhyun shakes his head, taking a small drag of his cigarette. “How could he leave you for his dog?”   
  
“People leave all the time.” Chanyeol flushes, the words scathing his tongue as they tumble out of him. “At least he took the time to say goodbye.”  
  
Surprise paints the pretty planes of Baekhyun’s face. “Chanyeol…”  
  
“Let’s go.” He steps into the pavement and under the drizzle. He doesn’t want to hear it. “I’m freezing.”   
  
Before he can get too far, though, Baekhyun grabs his arm to stop him. “Wait, Chanyeol.” The cigarette falls to the pavement, and the nonchalance in Baekhyun’s countenance crumbles with it. A car drives by, its lights flashing over Baekhyun’s eyes, bright and pleading, and then, the pink light falls over his face like a mantle again. “I didn’t want to leave. All those years ago.”  
  
“What?” Chanyeol whispers in an exhale.  
  
“I’m sorry that I left you—I know I fucked up really bad, and you didn’t deserve it.” Baekhyun’s adam’s apple bobs, his gaze drifting to the pavement. Droplets gather on his eyelashes, and Chanyeol has the brief urge to wipe them away. Long, graceful fingers curl over Chanyeol’s sweatshirt, tugging him closer, and Chanyeol is too dumbfounded to resist it. “Would you forgive me?”  
  
“I’ve already forgiven you,” Chanyeol murmurs. “I was sad and angry for a long time, but I got over it.” His hand closes over Baekhyun’s, reaching out to take his other hand. Perhaps it’s the rush of the moment or the alcohol finally kicking in, but the questions are searing his throat, bubbling out of him in a quiet exhale. “But I need to know—If you didn’t want to leave… why did you leave, then?”  
  
Baekhyun shakes his head, slowly, as though the words were stuck inside of him. When he lifts his head, after a long moment, his face is devoid of expression. “Let’s go back to the guesthouse before you catch a cold.”  
  
Chanyeol doesn’t know how long he stands there, watching Baekhyun’s retrieving back, wondering if he’ll ever get used to seeing Baekhyun walk away, time and time again.  
  
  
  
  


❦❦❦

  
  
  
  
  
His phone starts ringing when he’s out of the car. It’s Jongdae. “Uh, I’ll go take this call.”  
  
Baekhyun looks at him and nods before going inside. Chanyeol watches before answering the call, sitting in the steps leading to the door.   
  
“Hey,” Chanyeol says, “You finally remembered you had a best friend.”  
  
Jongdae’s laugh comes as a tinny sound through the other end. “I’m sorry.” Jongdae expulses a tired exhale. “Aigoo, it was such a busy day. I’m free now so I’m driving there early tomorrow with Sooyoung in her car. How are things going with Baekhyun?”  
  
Chanyeol shrugs and remembers belatedly that Jongdae can’t see him. “They’re okay, I guess.” He scratches his jaw; he should really shave before the wedding. “I think we’re sort of… friends, again.”  
  
“That’s an interesting development.” Chanyeol can hear him moving things, and he imagines his friend pacing in his spacious apartment in Suwon, his girlfriend’s puppy trailing after him as he packs his bags for tomorrow. “Have you talked to him about what happened?”  
  
“No, because he refuses to tell me what happened.” Chanyeol sighs, stretching his legs before him and tapping his heels against the pavement. “He’s been dancing around the subject since we arrived.”  
  
“It’s better if you don’t ask him,” Jongdae says, carefully. “He must have his reasons. I know he… used to like you a lot back then, so something must’ve happened for him to do what he did.”  
  
“I know that, but—” Chanyeol exhales heavily, scratching his head in frustration. “I just wish I knew because I wondered for a long time, you know.”  
  
“I know you want some closure,” Jongdae says. “But wait for him, okay? Don’t be such an impatient puppy. Wait until he’s ready to tell you on his own.”  
  
“Okay, okay, I’ll do that,” Chanyeol says. “And what’s with everyone calling me puppy? I’m not a puppy—”  
  
“Yes, you are a puppy,” Jongdae says, firmly, as though putting his foot down on a important matter. “It’s a universal truth, like everyone knowing pineapple doesn’t go on pizza.”  
  
“But I love pineapple on pizza.” Chanyeol pouts, even though Jongdae can’t see him. He smiles at his best friend’s laughing through the phone. “You just have a terrible taste.”  
  
“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow! Try not to do anything stupid until I’m there to record it. Bye!”  
  
“Bye, asshole,” Chanyeol mutters when he hangs up. He pockets his phone and stands, watching the clouds gathered above.   
  
It had been a silent ride to the guesthouse, with Baekhyun’s mouth creased into a hard line, and all the secrets and unsaid words floating over them like impending rain. All that occupied Chanyeol’s mind was the vacancy in Baekhyun’s eyes as he stared straight ahead, and how pleading those same eyes had been outside the shop less than an hour ago. Chanyeol had become so easily accustomed to Baekhyun’s warmth in such a short time, he’d forgotten how cold it was when Baekhyun’s light dimmed from the inside.  
  
He sighs towards the moonless sky, and makes his way inside the guesthouse.  
  
When he opens the door to their room, Baekhyun stands next to the bed, drying his hair with a towel, naked as the day he was brought into the world. Heat crawls from his neck to his face, prickling his cheekbones and burning his ears; Chanyeol yelps, jumping back into the hallway and slamming the door behind him, Baekhyun’s laugh echoing in the other side.   
  
The door opens a few minutes later. Baekhyun, now dressed in grey sweatpants and tee, sports an amused grin as Chanyeol trudges into the room. “Why did you leave? It’s not anything you haven’t seen before.”  
  
“I’d really appreciate to know beforehand that I’m going to be walking into  _things_ ,” Chanyeol says. He takes his shirt off to put on his pajamas. He’s had enough nonsense for today; he’d really love to go to bed and knock out for a year. “And please don’t make a lewd comment out of that.”  
  
“Well, like I said—nothing you’re unfamiliar with,” Baekhyun laughs. “But I am unfamiliar with  _that_.”  
  
When Chanyeol turns back to him, Baekhyun is biting his bottom lip appreciatively as his eyes roam over his torso, a wicked curve to his lips that Chanyeol knows, by experience, means nothing good. Chanyeol flushes, his arm missing its proper hole when he attempts to put on his shirt at first.   
  
“Have you been working out?” Baekhyun’s voice drops an octave lower, and  _god_ , Chanyeol really needs to get under the covers right now. “I noticed your arms, but the rest of you... Allow me to say, you look really, really good.”  
  
“Thanks.” Chanyeol stares at Baekhyun pointedly, pants in his hands, and Baekhyun releases a short little laugh before he spins to let Chanyeol change. “Sunyoung was right, by the way. You’re still shameless.”  
  
“Why, Chanyeol, you flatter me,” Baekhyun says. “I just call them how I see them.”  
  
Chanyeol shakes his head, sucking his bottom lip to his mouth to trample a growing smile. He’d sneaked a glance at Baekhyun as well; he is thinner than he used to be years ago, his belly had lost some of the softness Chanyeol loved so much, his legs more toned and slimmer than he remembered, but he’s still as gorgeous and enticing as the last day Chanyeol had him in his arms.   
  
Chanyeol pads to the bed and slips under the covers, so he doesn’t get carried away in his memories. Baekhyun follows after him, settling quietly in the bed. Chanyeol is about to face the wall on his side, when Baekhyun clears his throat.  
  
“I wanted to say… Thanks for coming in this trip with me.” Baekhyun rests against the pillows, gaze fixed on his hands over the bedsheets. His smile is tentative at the edges when he takes a glance at Chanyeol. “I know it would’ve been easy to turn on your heels and walk to the nearest bus station as soon as you saw me outside your apartment, but you didn’t, so...”   
  
Baekhyun fumbles with the sheets, in that way he does when he’s nervous, and Chanyeol is almost tempted to laugh at his sheepishness. “It’s alright, Baekhyun,” he says, smiling. “I can’t say I wasn’t tempted to get on a bus, but it hasn’t been too bad so far.”  
  
“No, it’s been fun… I missed spending time with you.” Baekhyun’s smile is small, tinted with shyness, his canines peeking from where he’s caught his lower under his teeth. A sweet, tempting sight. “Thank you for not getting on that bus, then.”  
  
His hand skates over the space between them to grasp Chanyeol’s hand, turning his palm upwards to lace their fingers together. His hand is a smaller fit than Chanyeol’s, it’s almost laughable, but the jolt of yearning that strikes Chanyeol at the contact, unexpected and familiar, leaves him scrambling for breath, let alone words. He wants to grip Baekhyun’s hand and pull him against him, as he’d done before on nights like this, sharing countless kisses and silly stories until dawn.  
  
It’s exactly how he’d felt when he’d first started dating Baekhyun, all those years ago, and he realizes, with a quiet intake of breath, that maybe, when Baekhyun had packed his bags and left, he hadn’t taken these feelings with him.  
  
“Hey, are you still here with me?” Baekhyun taps him between the eyebrows, lips curled with bemusement.  
  
“Yes,” comes Chanyeol’s reply, but his voice cracks, so he clears his throat. “I was just thinking about something.”  
  
There’s a noncommittal hum from Baekhyun. He settles on his side, holding his head up with his hand, as he assesses Chanyeol. “A penny for your thoughts?”  
  
“It’s nothing.” He lies on his side, and presses his cheek over his bicep. “Thank you for paying for the food tonight.”  
  
Baekhyun’s smile grows in size, bright and carefree, unlike Chanyeol. He’s all pins and needles, being this close to Baekhyun. He fears he may dissolve if Baekhyun touched him again.   
  
“My pleasure,” Baekhyun returns, breezily. “We can go eat again when the wedding is over.”  
  
“Only if you promise to pay again,” Chanyeol manages to joke. A chuckles bubbles out of him when the corners of Baekhyun’s lips drag down in a frown, and the knot in his chest loosens a little.  
  
“What happened to being a big boy and not letting your dates pay for you, huh?”   
  
It doesn’t escape Chanyeol the slip; his heart falters, like Baekhyun’s smile on his face, drained of its confidence, and it’s all it takes for Chanyeol to push his own turmoil aside. “I’m doing an exception now, since you seem so eager to take me out.”  
  
He knows it’s playing with fire, flirting with Baekhyun like this, but he tells himself it was a mistake, a mishap, and far from Baekhyun’s real intentions.   
  
In a split second, a sweet smile unfurls in Baekhyun’s lips, and Chanyeol doesn’t know if he should be concerned about the wave of relief that washes over him. “I promise I won’t disappoint.”   
  
“Okay, let’s sleep now,” says Chanyeol, shifting in the bed until he’s comfortable. He’s had enough ofor today, and his heart must be tired of racing so fast at this point. “Jongdae is arriving tomorrow and these are our last hours of peace.”  
  
“I haven’t seen him in a while, Baekhyun whispers, quiet and sleepy, underscored by a wistfulness that plucks a string in Chanyeol’s heart. “It’ll be nice to hang out the three of us together again.”  
  
The sleepy smile Baekhyun wears makes his cheeks bunch up, his eyes framed by crinkles at the corners, and it’s fills Chanyeol with a rush of affection that catches him off guard.   
  
A hum of acknowledgment is all he can manage. He presses his face to his pillow, watching as Baekhyun stifles a yawn with his hand, and the memories come unbidden: Chanyeol kissing him goodnight, on nights just like this one, and holding him until Baekhyun fell asleep in his arms. It springs a pang right between lungs, and Baekhyun watching him, soft and half-awake, isn’t helping at all.  
  
“Aren’t you tired?” Baekhyun asks. His proximity, coupled with the low drag of his voice, makes Chanyeol’s heart stumble.   
  
“A little,” Chanyeol croaks. Before he thinks better about it, he brushes Baekhyun’s bangs away with unsure fingers, and the sigh that Baekhyun draws out, warm breath grazing the inside of Chanyeol’s wrist, sets his skin ablaze. His fingers card through his hair until he holds Baekhyun’s face in his palm, and there’s something to be said about Chanyeol’s ability to keep his composure, because the way Baekhyun’s eyes flutter for a second as he leans into the touch fills Chanyeol with an ache that he recognizes. The desire to kiss him is undeniable and rising still, one he can’t get rid of—it lingers long after his hand drops and retreats under the covers, and Baekhyun’s eyes snap open as though he’s woken up from a daze. Chanyeol can relate.  
  
He twists to turn off his lamp on his side, an excuse to hide his rapidly coloring face. Baekhyun is peering at him from over the bedspread when he settles back on his side, his eyes shifting as if he’s trying to suss out a secret.   
  
“Goodnight, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol whispers.   
  
He doesn’t mean it to sound as tender as it does, and it floats between them in minutes of nervous respite. Then Baekhyun’s fingers skid tentatively over the back of Chanyeol’s hand, until he grasps it in a gentle hold. Chanyeol can see Baekhyun’s gaze in the dark posing a silent question, and all of Chanyeol’s previous reservations scatter like leaves in the wind—Chanyeol opens his arms and Baekhyun moves closer, burying his head on Chanyeol’s chest, arms locking around him instantly.  
  
He rests his chin on Baekhyun’s head, and with Baekhyun wrapped around him, he lets the soft sound of his breathing lull him to sleep.  
  
  
  


❦❦❦

  
  
  
  
  
Jongdae arrives at nine in the morning, dressed smartly in a dress shirt and khaki pants, fancy sunglasses perched high on his nose, even though the sun hasn’t poked its head over the clouds yet. Chanyeol had woken up an hour ago, and hadn’t had his morning coffee yet when Jongdae rang him up to come meet him outside. He takes off his sunglasses as Chanyeol approaches, and cracks that cat-like grin that Chanyeol knows means trouble—mostly for Chanyeol.  
  
“Looks like someone got a good night’s sleep,” Jongdae taunts. “If that dumb smile on your face is anything to go by.”  
  
Chanyeol tries to tap down his grin to no avail—he’d  _had_  a good night’s sleep, the best one in years. He’d woken up with Baekhyun’s arms around him, his head nestled on Chanyeol’s chest and his warmth enveloping him, and the sight of Baekhyun’s peaceful, sleeping face makes his heart expand until it’s about to burst at the seams.  
  
“You could say so,” he says, giving Jongdae a friendly smile and a shrug.  
  
Jongdae’s smile turns inquisitive, the slope of his eyebrows disclosing concern. “I’m assuming you guys…”  
  
“No, we haven’t done anything.” Chanyeol smiles abashedly, but he isn’t sure if he  _doesn’t_  want anything to happen—Baekhyun had come to turn his life upside down, and with him at the end of his fingertips, it’s hard not to crave for more. “We still haven’t talked about what happened, but I think we’re on good terms. Like you said, I’ll wait for him to open up.”  
  
“That’s good.” Jongdae nods. “Just be careful, okay? Don’t rush into things.”  
  
The déjà vu of the whole scene almost makes Chanyeol sick. Chanyeol reminds himself that once the weekend is over Baekhyun will be gone from his life again, and return to be only a permanent fixture in his memories. His heart clenches, unexpectedly, but he plasters a smile on his face for Jongdae. “It’s okay, Jongdae, I’m a big boy. I know how to take care of myself.”  
  
Jongdae doesn’t look too convinced. He pats his arm all the same. “I’ll trust your word.”  
  
  
  
  


❦❦❦

  
  
  
  
  
A couple of hours later, Chanyeol finds himself sitting across Baekhyun, watching Busan getting smaller and smaller under his feet. After much convincing from Baekhyun, with Chanyeol unsuccessfully arguing they’d be late to the wedding, Baekhyun had dragged him to Geumgang Park, because  _we need to take the cable car while we’re here, Chanyeol_.  
  
“So, do you like it?” Baekhyun’s beaming with eagerness. “It’s really pretty, isn’t it?”   
  
Outside, the buildings stand like thousands of dominoes, littering every space his eyes can reach, nearly obscured by the trees swaying in the wind. The clear weather allows him to see the tops of the mountains surrounding Busan, rising in all of their steep glory in the distance.   
  
Chanyeol smiles at the thought of Baekhyun taking him to all these places to share them with him. “It’s really nice.”  
  
His half-hearted response is met with a scoff. “You’re going to love it! You’ll never forget about this trip, you’ll see.”  
  
Chanyeol doesn’t tell Baekhyun that the trip is already amounting to be unforgettable, but not exactly for the reasons Baekhyun thinks.   
  
“I haven’t gone on a trip in a while,” Chanyeol tells him. “We used to go on trips with my parents all the time when me and Yoora were kids. But then when we were in middle school, my parents were always busy with the restaurant, so we would drive down to the beach only during holidays. It was still great, and we would stay there until the evening, just playing in the sand.”  
  
The memories fill him with bittersweet nostalgia—the tradition had died down when he hit puberty, and from then on, he’d dedicated his weekends to helping his mother in the restaurant after his father moved away. But he keeps them safely tucked inside his heart, where they will always stay.   
  
“I bet you were that nerdy kid who made really intricate sandcastles,” Baekhyun teases him, “until some bully would come to kick them down.”  
  
“I’ll let you know I make very beautiful sandcastles,” Chanyeol counters. He doesn’t mention it was Yoora who used to scare those bullies away, not only at the beach, but at school as well. “And I bet you were the type of kid who used to destroy sandcastles.”  
  
Baekhyun’s smile wavers and wanes, like the flame of a candle. “I don’t know about that,” he says quietly. “Our parents never had time for us so we missed out on all those things.”   
  
It’s the first time Chanyeol has heard Baekhyun talk about his parents. Chanyeol had seen Baekhyun’s parents, once, from afar: a stern-looking couple draped in clothes more expensive than an entire semester worth of Chanyeol’s tuition. He knew they were part of the board from rumors, but not from Baekhyun, who never mentioned them while they were seeing each other.  
  
“Me and Baekbeom went to every tourist attraction we could in Japan, and we had a lot of fun together.” Baekhyun looks out the window, and the sunlight catches on the side of his face, pouring molten bronze into his eyes. “I guess it was a way to make up for the fact our parents were to busy to spend any time with us and take us to places like other kids our age.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol says awkwardly. “At least you have Baekbeom.”  
  
“I do.” Baekhyun’s smile resurfaces. “And I don’t speak to my parents anymore.”  
  
The satisfaction in his voice is tangible. It rises a question in Chanyeol, but he folds it away, perhaps for later. A strange feeling sits within him, and after a few more moments of watching Baekhyun’s profile, he pinpoints what it is: the refreshing, thrilling sensation of becoming familiar with someone new—but in this case, it’s Baekhyun, this Baekhyun who is all too familiar and new at the same time, and nothing less than refreshing and thrilling.   
  
The smell of food wafts over to them when they alight at the top, and Chanyeol’s stomach grumbles appreciatively after skipping on breakfast.   
  
“Do you want to have an early lunch?” Baekhyun asks. “Brunch or whatever?”  
  
Chanyeol shrugs. “Sure.”  
  
Baekhyun laces their fingers together and tugs him in the direction of the food vendors. “My treat, then.”  
  
The fit of Baekhyun’s hand is perfect and warm and familiar, and so is the grin that Baekhyun throws him over his shoulder.  
  
“Come on!” He pulls again when Chanyeol stands frozen. “I won’t make this offer twice!”   
  
“You love being bossy, don’t you,” Chanyeol quips. “I didn’t sign up in this trip to be bossed around by people smaller than me.”  
  
A slug lands on his shoulder and Chanyeol bursts into laughter. “Don’t call me small, you giant dickhead!”  
  
“Alright, alright,” Chanyeol concedes. “But if it makes you feel better I kinda missed you bossing me around like this.”  
  
Baekhyun beams, so bright he generates his own sunshine. “I missed it too,” Baekhyun says, squeezing his hand. “Now let’s get going before I change my mind and leave you to starve here for calling me bossy.”  
  
The sunlight glints in Baekhyun’s eyes, and Chanyeol blossoms with adoration. “Lead the way.”  
  
  
  
  


❦❦❦

  
  
  
  
  
The wedding is as beautiful and emotional as Chanyeol had expected. Sunyoung had cried during their vows and Baekhyun had teased Minseok for being teary-eyed when they congratulated them afterwards.   
  
In the reception they sit with Jongdae and Sooyoung, his girlfriend, and after catching up with old friends and classmates alike, Baekhyun nudged Chanyeol and nodded towards the entry of the hall with a smile that Chanyeol has never learned to ignore.  
  
“Where are we going?” Chanyeol asks.   
  
Baekhyun gives him one of his enigmatic smiles. “Shut up and follow me.”  
  
Baekhyun leads him to a courtyard, where a fountain stands in the middle of it. The place is lit by lanterns hanging from posts, but the fountain shines from the bottom, a couple of LED lights standing underwater. There’s something magical about the place that takes Chanyeol’s breath away, but he’s more focused on the joy in Baekhyun’s face as he takes in the place.  
  
“I read about the hotel online and found this place.” Baekhyun paces around the fountain, hands shoved in his pockets. “It’s really beautiful, isn’t it?”  
  
“It is,” Chanyeol agrees in an exhale. “Thank you for bringing me here.”  
  
A couple hides behind a pillar at the farthest end of the courtyard, their laughter carrying over the sound of the water trickling in the fountain. By their loudness, Chanyeol guesses they’ve had a few drinks, and Baekhyun looks pointedly at Chanyeol with a mischievous little smile.   
  
“I wonder how many of our old friends are getting laid tonight,” he muses. “Who is hooking up with who.”  
  
“God, I really don’t want to know,” Chanyeol says, even though he’s wondering himself vaguely now. “And please, don’t be a nosy little shit tomorrow.”  
  
“I can’t promise anything.” One side of Baekhyun’s mouth quirks. “I’ll keep you posted, though.”  
  
“Don’t even try because I’ll ignore you,” Chanyeol warns.   
  
Baekhyun’s laughter rings like twinkling bells in the creeping darkness of dusk. Baekhyun’s smile is tinted with delight, and under the lanterns his skin glows a soft amber, eyes like two waxing moons.  
  
A dreadfully familiar feeling has taken home in the center of his chest. It doesn’t come like a blow to the gut, unlike the first time he saw Baekhyun, but more like slow rising of the tide, flooding every inch of him with warmth, and washing over him with realization: Chanyeol knows he’s as deeply in love with Baekhyun as the day he left.  
  
Droopy eyes blink up at him curiously. “What’s wrong?”   
  
“Nothing.” He offers a comforting smile, even though the force of his realization is still shaking him to the core. “Nothing at all.”  
  
Baekhyun’s inquisitive eyes linger on him, then his attention is on the fountain again. “Do you think someone has fallen into this at least once?”  
  
“Probably,” Chanyeol laughs. He grabs Baekhyun’s shoulder by surprise and drags him closer to the fountain. “Wanna be the first?”  
  
Baekhyun’s boisterous laughter tears through the quietness of the clearing. Chanyeol has a faraway thought about the couple leaving through one of the back doors; there’s no sounds of their laughters, and the scuff of their feet on the ground.   
  
“Stop it! Don’t!”  
  
Once Chanyeol stops, Baekhyun’s grip on his forearms skates down slowly to lace their fingers together. There’s a gleam of hopefulness on Baekhyun’s eyes, expectation in the flutter of his eyelashes, surprise in the loose curve of his mouth, and Chanyeol can see the same kind of anticipation in him that’s pulsing through his veins, his heart threatening to bruise itself as it slams against its confines.   
  
He knows he should stop and think about this better, but he has been waiting so long for this moment, more than he cares to admit. Baekhyun’s tongue darts out to lick his lips, and Chanyeol’s eyes are glued to the movement, and flicker back up to Baekhyun’s eyes. There’s want in that half-lidded look, pure and dark, and it coils in Chanyeol’s stomach, pulling him in towards Baekhyun as if it strung itself between them.  
  
“Chanyeol…” Baekhyun’s voice cracks, and Chanyeol’s entire resolve cracks with it, too. He cups Baekhyun’s jaw, and holds his breath when Baekhyun leans into the touch.  
  
“Can I kiss you?” he asks, dumbly. Baekhyun blinks once, twice, then he smiles, a subtle tug of his lips tinged with relief, and his eyes close in expectancy.   
  
Baekhyun won’t stay in his life longer than this weekend. Monday will come and Baekhyun will go back to his life, to his friends and his job, and later, he’ll move even further away from Chanyeol, diving headfirst into a new beginning that Chanyeol won’t be a part of. Perhaps Baekhyun was never his to keep, but he wants to retain this little of piece of him, even it will kill him once this burrowed time is over.  
  
The last thought that crosses Chanyeol’s mind is  _fuck it_ , right before he leans down the rest of the way to kiss Baekhyun.   
  
Baekhyun kisses him softly, his lips moving tentatively over his own. It’s a rhythm he knows all too well, and he dances to the beat of their familiar tune, coming alight under Baekhyun’s sounds of appreciation. Baekhyun yanks him closer by his shirt, and whatever spell that had bridled them until then breaks; his tongue slides over Chanyeol’s, slick and silken, drawing out a low groan from the back of his throat. Chanyeol’s hand clings to Baekhyun’s waist, the other slipping under Baekhyun’s blazer, and the shudder that ripples through Baekhyun when his hand settles over his ribs tugs firmly at his stomach.   
  
Baekhyun breaks away to drop kisses to his chin and his jaw. Chanyeol cups his face and presses a kiss to the corner of his lips, and Baekhyun sighs deeply into his mouth, like the first exhale after being underwater for too long.  
  
“Hello,” Chanyeol whispers. He sweeps Baekhyun’s bangs away from his eyes, his insides liquefying under the sweetness of his smile.   
  
“Since when do you ask people for permission before you kiss them?” Baekhyun’s words are laced with a breathless chuckle, and Chanyeol flushes. “Such a gentleman, Park.”  
  
“Shut up.” He leans in to kiss the mole over Baekhyun’s top lip—a personal weakness—, and revels in the sigh that ghosts over his mouth. “It’s not like you asked me for permission the first time you kissed me, anyway.”  
  
Baekhyun’s confidence shifts to sheepishness, and as if to make things right, he asks, “Can I kiss you again, then?” Chanyeol shakes his head, mouth thinned into a line, barely containing a laugh at Baekhyun’s growing impatience. “Oh, stop it—just come here and kiss me.”  
  
Their second kiss is slower, more deliberate, Baekhyun’s mouth yielding under the pressure of Chanyeol’s lips, his tongue, as it sweeps over his bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. Baekhyun’s fingers thread through Chanyeol’s hair, using his hold as leverage to tilt his head and deepen the kiss. Baekhyun laps into his mouth, his other hand sliding over Chanyeol’s torso and over his hip to grab his ass, lips curving into a winning smile over Chanyeol’s hiccuping sound. He kisses Baekhyun’s smile, his hand brushing over his nipple briefly, and swallowing Baekhyun’s gasp.   
  
His mind transports him, inevitably, to the last time he’d kissed Baekhyun like this, soft and pliant and half-naked in his bed. Baekhyun pushing him away, his eyes anywhere but on Chanyeol. The door closing behind him with finality, and the deafening silence that followed, consuming Chanyeol like a forest fire.  
  
The low simmer of want in his gut cools at the sudden constriction in his chest, his mouth slowing in its effort to keep up with the kiss. Baekhyun pulls away, gaze now filled with doubt, and it makes the knot around Chanyeol’s heart tighten.   
  
“What?” Baekhyun asks. “Is there something wrong?”  
  
“I just… I remembered…” The feelings hit Chanyeol fresh, as awful as the first time. “That night before you left…”  
  
Baekhyun’s face falls, the sparkle in his eyes fading. “Oh.” His arms drop to his sides, and his jaw locks, as if preparing for a punch. “I figured you’d bring that up again.”   
  
“Baekhyun…” There’s dread flooding Chanyeol’s gut, but it’s too late to take a step back, so he presses on. “What happened that night?”  
  
Baekhyun pulls away, back, ignoring Chanyeol’s attempts at keeping a hold on him, and his stomach drops and rolls over the floor.   
  
A long silence stretches between them, quivering with tension, like a bubble swollen bigger than it can hold itself. At last, Baekhyun licks his lips, and says, “I said I didn’t want to talk about this, but I think I’ll have to come clean at some point, and I guess there’s no better time to tell you than now, is it?”  
  
Seeing the storm raging in Baekhyun’s countenance, Chanyeol has half a mind to stop him, but the selfish part of him holds back; the one that has carried all these questions for too long, a heavy load that he’s never been able to shake off.  
  
That is, until now.  
  
“That night...” Baekhyun says. “It wasn’t just that night. I’d been fucking up for a while and it finally caught up with me then.”  
  
There’s this faraway look on Baekhyun’s face that Chanyeol had only seen on him once before, that night on the ride back to the guesthouse.  
  
“It started when I was in freshman year—I was young and head over heals with a guy I wasn’t supposed to be with.” His eyes flick away from Chanyeol, steeped in shame. “Remember Mr. Kim, the Philosophy professor?”   
  
Mr. Kim was one of the youngest professors in their school staff; no older than his early thirties, handsome and with a smile that had all the girls staying after class just to talk to him. Chanyeol nods absently, his heart wrenching. “Tell me you didn’t…”   
  
“It only lasted for three months before he ended it because he was getting engaged,” Baekhyun says, a bitter edge to his voice. “I had no idea he was even dating someone. I was so pissed, and that coupled with being stupid and reckless really isn’t a good combo. I did what first came to my mind most of the time and this seemed right, back then. I sent him pictures of me naked, because I wanted to show him what he was missing, you know?” He closes his eyes as though the memory still pains him. “God, I was so stupid.”  
  
The distress in Baekhyun’s face is too much to bare. Chanyeol’s immediate reaction is to try and soothe his pain, but when he takes a step towards him, Baekhyun steps back, without looking at him.  
  
Baekhyun shakes his head, slowly, and then takes a deep breath to go on. “I moved on pretty fast after that—I got over him by getting under other people, and it was pretty effective. A year passed and I forgot all about it.” A hint of a smile appears in his lips, faint and wistful. “I met you and you flipped over my whole life. You were so different to all the people I’d been interested in before—you, with your clumsiness, like a baby giraffe learning to walk. It was so endearing to me, and I wanted you so much for some reason.”  
  
“Gee, thanks.” Chanyeol tries to sound flat, but his voice wobbles embarrassingly by the sudden lump lodged in his throat.  
  
“I had changed completely, but… the past always has a way to come back and kick you in the ass, I guess.” He laughs mirthlessly, and the sound is so hollow, Chanyeol wishes he never has to hear it again. “A year passes and the guy is getting his salary cut for some reason. He’s pissed, obviously, he’s starting a family…” He inhales deeply, his breath quivering like a lone leaf. “And the solution he comes up with sending my pictures to my parents threatening them to release them if they don’t give him a raise.”  
  
Chanyeol’s heart comes to a slow halt, his lungs filling with ice-cold water, that sort of dread when the truth is hanging above one’s head.   
  
“He really cared so little about me he was willing to use me when I was vulnerable and stupid, to fuck me over for his own benefit,” he whispers angrily. He looks so lost, and as he wraps his arms around himself, Chanyeol itches to take him in his arms. “My parents threw a fit, of course. Their precious little boy was  _gay_ … They went over to the campus just to ask me if it was true, but what was there to deny? It was me in the pictures, that much was clear. My mom almost fainted right there in my room.”  
  
“And they made you drop out,” Chanyeol finishes in a whisper. Baekhyun’s eyes settle on him like he’s seeing him for the first time. “They pulled you out of the school.” He takes a step closer, and watches, with some relief, that Baekhyun doesn’t move. “But what about…”  _What about me_ , he wants to ask, but the words are trapped in his throat.  
  
“I couldn’t let them find out about you,” Baekhyun says, reading his mind. “They were already horrified that I fucked around with a man, I didn’t want to imagine if they found out…” Baekhyun swallows, letting the sentence unfinished. “That night I went to say goodbye, but it was too sad for me.” He laughs, a wet, brittle sound, that makes Chanyeol’s throat thicken. “I couldn’t do it, so I just ran away.”  
  
He remembers Baekhyun’s sad eyes that night, all the unspoken things floating in them, but no words to utter. Chanyeol had misread it all, and tried to pluck the words out of him with kisses and touches.  
  
“I think I owe you an apology for that,” Baekhyun says. “You deserved to know, but I was a coward. I couldn’t stand the idea of looking at you while I did it. I chickened out and left without telling you anything, so I didn’t have to deal with you hating me.” He sniffs, his words coming out in a quiet garble. “I’m so sorry.”  
  
That’s all it takes for Chanyeol to break. In two strides, his arm is around Baekhyun’s waist, and the other cups the back of his head. Baekhyun buries his face in his chest, fingers grasping his shirt until it’s crumpled in his fist.   
  
“It wasn’t your fault,” he whispers into Baekhyun’s hair. It’s so liberating, this knowledge resonating through him.  _It wasn’t_  his  _fault_. “It’s okay.”  
  
A long moment passes, where Chanyeol strokes Baekhyun’s hair, his other hand drawing soothing circles on his lower back, and slowly, Baekhyun’s shoulders sag, his grip on Chanyeol’s shirt loosening until his fingers splay over his abdomen, like he’s finally letting go of all the things that weighed him down for years.  
  
Chanyeol thinks about how easily it could’ve been for Baekhyun’s parents to end his scholarship, and anger dribbles off his tongue like acid. “I can’t believe they would do this to you,” he mutters. “They’re  _your_  parents…”   
  
“I know they are,” Baekhyun mumbles. “But blood relation doesn’t make anyone a good parent by default.”   
  
When he lifts his head to look at Chanyeol, his eyes are red-rimmed, the tip of his nose red flushed. Chanyeol caresses the side of Baekhyun’s face with gentle fingers, and Baekhyun’s eyes close briefly in appreciation.  
  
“What happened afterwards?” Chanyeol asks quietly. “After you left.”  
  
“They made me move to Japan with my brother so he could keep an eye on me,” Baekhyun tells him. “I knew Baekbeom wouldn’t tell them anything, but it still sucked to live like I was someone else. So, two years ago, I decided to break away from them, but obviously that also meant cutting off all my credit cards and expenses.” He laughs, a little lighter this time, the sadness retreating from his countenance. “It’s been hard, living on my own with my little teaching stints, but I’ve felt better than I had in years.”  
  
He sighs, and there’s a little smile pulling at his lips, almost peaceful, as he stares at the moon hanging above them.   
  
“So, you’re okay, now?” Chanyeol asks, tentatively.   
  
“I regret a lot of things I did back then, but…” He bites his lower lip, fingers trailing over the silk of Chanyeol’s tie. “I was young and I didn’t know what I was doing. I’m in a better place now.”  
  
His eyes flicker significantly, and Chanyeol smiles, the look on Baekhyun’s face searing into his skin like a brand. “I’m glad to hear that.”  
  
“Let’s get back to the party.” Baekhyun grabs his hand. “I think I ruined the mood for good here.”  
  
“You killed it right between the eyes,” Chanyeol jokes. A little surprised gasp escapes Baekhyun when he tugs him closer by a hand on his neck and kisses him. Baekhyun’s mouth moves softly, humming in breathless pleasure, and Chanyeol’s pulse jumps, eager and craving. When they pull away, Baekhyun’s eyes are still closed, the beginning of a smile on his lips, and Chanyeol kisses it briefly. “I want to kiss even when you ruin the mood.”  
  
Baekhyun huffs a laugh, eyes following the path of his fingers tracing Chanyeol’s jaw. “I have another confession to make.” He looks straight into Chanyeol’s eyes. “I was hoping you wouldn’t shave before the wedding. You look kinda hot with a stubble.”  
  
Chanyeol sputters a nervous chuckle; his heart had stopped for a second there, but he isn’t about to tell Baekhyun that. “It makes me look like a bum.”  
  
Baekhyun shakes his head, bottom lip worried by his teeth, and that coupled with the way his smile widens, drives Chanyeol’s heartbeat into a frantic pace. “You don’t know what you’re talking about—you always look good to me.” Color sits in the height of Chanyeol’s cheeks, and before he can form a response, Baekhyun’s fingers dig into his shirt to bring him impossibly closer. “Now kiss me again before we go back.”  
  
And without another word, Chanyeol does exactly that.  
  
  
  
  


❦❦❦

  
  
  
  
  
“I can’t believe you still drink your coffee like this,” Chanyeol says. “Actually, that can’t be called coffee.”  
  
Baekhyun sends him a smile over the top of his whipped cream, eyes crinkled in the corners. They’re having breakfast at a cafe a few blocks from the guesthouse; Baekhyun had dragged him there  _because hot chocolate always helps with my hangover_ , even though he looked fresh and radiant, while Chanyeol was seconds away from wilting to the ground. After having drained half of his coffee with aspirins, the slight throb in his temple had resided, but he’s still a stark contrast to Baekhyun, who sits as cheery as ever across from him, as though he hadn’t gotten drunk on his first shot the night before.  
  
“What’s wrong with how I like my coffee?” Baekhyun asks, mock offended. “That stuff you drink is poison. I can’t stand the taste.”  
  
“You don’t know what you’re missing out on.” Chanyeol gasps loudly after taking a sip of his coffee, for the sake of seeing Baekhyun’s face contort in distaste. He laughs, even though he has the familiar urge of kissing Baekhyun’s nose when it’s wrinkled like it is now. “You’re a kid.”  
  
Baekhyun sticks his tongue out at him, more or less proving Chanyeol’s point, and Chanyeol’s mouth curves in a smug smirk.  
  
“See, you’re a kid.”  
  
“I’m six months older than you, if anyone’s a kid here it’s you,” Baekhyun quips. His face gentles when he strokes the side of Chanyeol’s calf under the table. “We have to check out in an hour, so what are we going to do today?”  
  
A thrill rolls up Chanyeol’s spine at the silent, mutual agreement between them to spend some time alone before making the trip back. He aches to spend as much as possible with Baekhyun, make up for all the time that he didn’t have him like this, but the reminder that their time together is coming to an end sits at the front of his mind, inescapable, like the ticking of a clock in a quiet room.  
  
That morning he’d woken to Baekhyun’s head on his chest, the rapid flutter of his eyelashes the only thing marring the peacefulness of his expression in slumber. He had kissed his hair, and settled back on his pillow, just so he could stay in Baekhyun’s embrace for a little longer.   
  
“I don’t know,” Chanyeol answers. “We could check the touristic attractions here, and maybe go to the beach in the afternoon.”  
  
“Now, that’s an idea.” Baekhyun grabs his hand and squeezes once before he lets go. Chanyeol is almost tempted to catch it and keep it in his hold, but his hands stay on his lap.  
  
There’s whipped cream smeared on the tip of Baekhyun’s nose, but he doesn’t seem to take notice as he sips on his hot chocolate. Chanyeol must look like all kinds of sappy as he peers at him, and the wish to see him drink his chocolate every morning like this, sitting together in comfortable silence, strikes him so suddenly it bewilders him. The question of what’s going to happen to them once the trip is over is gnawing at him, and no matter how much he tries he can’t muster the courage to bring it up.  
  
“Is something wrong?”   
  
Baekhyun licks his lips as he appraises him. The whipped cream stills sits on his nose, and Chanyeol pushes down his worries to wipe the cream off Baekhyun’s nose, cracking a smile as he licks his thumb.   
  
“You had cream on your nose,” he answers, smile growing at Baekhyun gaping, his gaze fixed on Chanyeol’s mouth.  
  
“I’d be jumping your bones if we weren’t in public right now,” Baekhyun whispers, and Chanyeol laughs nervously to mask the shiver that runs down his spine at the gravel in Baekhyun’s voice.  
  
Jongdae is waiting for them outside the guesthouse when they get back. His grin is like the cat that caught the canary when Chanyeol’s hand rests over Baekhyun’s lower back for a moment, looking between the two of them meaningfully.  
  
“Look at you two,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. “You guys disappeared for a good while during the party.”  
  
“We were making out,” Baekhyun says, bluntly.   
  
Chanyeol laughs at the way Jongdae’s eyebrows shoot up, caught off guard. Then his grin widens. “I guess you also had a good time at the party, then.”  
  
“You could say so.” Baekhyun shrugs, a little smile perched on his lips. “I’ll go pack our stuff before we check in. I’ll see you later, Jongdae.”  
  
“I see you guys are on good terms,” Jongdae says. “More than good, I would say.”  
  
Chanyeol lowers his head to hide his flustered smile, but it’s futile; Jongdae laughs and claps him on the arm. “Yeah, yeah, we’re good.”  
  
“I’m glad for you, man.” Jongdae’s smile turns a bit serious. “I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time.”  
  
“Thanks.” He chews on his bottom lip. “But I still don’t know if this is just a weekend thing or… something more permanent.” Chanyeol really wishes it’s the latter; he’d waited too long to have Baekhyun slip through his fingers, once again.  
  
“Well, why don’t you ask him?”   
  
“I will.” Chanyeol clears his throat. He remembers something that has been bothering him for the past couple of days. “What was it that made you approve of me and Baekhyun dating?”  
  
Jongdae is taken off guard again, but he recovers quickly. “I think it was when I saw you two together,” he says. “You looked so happy, and you couldn’t go a second without being all over each other.” Jongdae’s smile turns sharp. “And because I had a few words with him—I told him if he played with you he’d be dead, and I guess he took it to heart because he really changed when he started dating you.”   
  
“I didn’t know that.” Wonder is a sweet thing curled in his tone. “He never told me.”  
  
“I made him promise not to tell you.” A small crease appears in Jongdae’s brow. “And when he left you looked like such a sad puppy—it was like nothing really made you excited anymore, and you were like the most annoying, happy-go-lucky person I knew. After some time you came back to being your old self, but I knew you still thought about him sometimes.”  
  
The words hit Chanyeol right in his chest. It had been hard getting over Baekhyun, each day seemed to pass slower than the previous one. Eventually, he’d been able to move past it, and he’d found happiness in other people, but Baekhyun had never vacated his mind completely. Or his heart, for that matter.  
  
“So, don’t screw up and ask him,” says Jongdae. His mouth contorts, suddenly, as though he’s tasted something sour, and his solemn tone is replaced by a high-pitched whine. “And don’t make me talk about feelings again! This weekend has been too much.”  
  
“Aww, you  _do_  love me!” Chanyeol slings his arms over Jongdae’s shoulders, who half-heartedly tries to push him away. “Thank you, Dae.”  
  
He plants a loud smack on Jongdae’s cheek, and Jongdae’s whine is high enough for the lady at the reception to peek through the curtains in the living area to check the commotion.  
  
“It’s nothing, you jerk.” Jongdae hugs him back. “But if you have sex in my car make sure to never come back because I’ll kill you.”  
  
“Promised,” Chanyeol says sweetly, before he rests his cheek on Jongdae’s hair.   
  
  
  
  


❦❦❦

  
  
  
  
  
On the drive back to Suwon, Baekhyun plays a number of girl groups songs that he sings along to at the top of his lungs. Chanyeol pretends to be annoyed, but he can’t help the laugh that slips out of him when Baekhyun tries to match the choreography to the songs.  
  
“Hey, hey, don’t get us killed now,” Chanyeol says. “I’d really like to get back in one piece to Suwon, thank you.”  
  
“Okay, let’s listen to something else, then.” He puts on the radio and changes the stations until he settles for a mellow song. “I like this one.”  
  
Chanyeol recognizes the song as Sam Kim’s Touch My Body, and Baekhyun’s voice quickly joins in, rough and velvety at once, sliding like sand over Chanyeol’s skin. Chanyeol had forgotten how amazing Baekhyun’s voice was until he’d heard him humming in their room back at the guesthouse, but it’s nothing compared to hearing him sing like this, with his heart in the open and his emotions filtering through his voice, rising over the song itself in the car. Baekhyun has always possessed a way of moving people easily through his singing, and Chanyeol always wondered why Baekhyun hadnt’t gone into music professionally.  
  
“I missed your singing,” Chanyeol confesses, once the song is over. “I’ve always thought you have a great voice.”  
  
“Thank you.” Baekhyun flashes him a smile. “You know if I didn’t have to keep my hands on the wheel I’d be kissing you silly right now.”  
  
“Good thing you have to drive then,” Chanyeol quips, feeling heat climbing up his neck. “I wouldn’t want anything to distract you.”  
  
They pull over in a seaside town after driving for two hours, the beach deserted except for a couple walking with their child near the water. The sea breeze ruffles Chanyeol’s hair when they trudge down the sand, and Chanyeol buries his hands in his coat pockets to warm them, but he can’t do much about his uncovered face. Baekhyun has pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt, and looks very much like a cozy marshmallow. His hand seeks out Chanyeol’s, and Chanyeol’s smile spreads like the slow rise of the sun.  
  
“I really love the beach,” Baekhyun says, when they’re walking along the shore, close enough to the water that the sand is damp and soft, but not enough that the water licks at their feet. “The town I lived at in Japan had the most beautiful beaches and I liked going there on the weekends just to take a stroll and think.”  
  
“You thinking?” Chanyeol teases, watching his feet sink in the sand. “Now that’s a new one.”  
  
“Shut the hell up!” Baekhyun shoves him playfully, and Chanyeol loses his balance and topples to the sand with a mix between a laugh and a squeal.   
  
Baekhyun cackles as he runs when Chanyeol gets up and chases him, moving slowly than ever because of the sand. Baekhyun might be small, but he’s faster than he looks, like the hamster Yoora adopted when they were little. When he finally catches up to him, he wraps his arms around his middle, Baekhyun’s feet kicking the air when Chanyeol lifts him up and trudges to the water. Baekhyun screams and hits Chanyeol with his tiny fists on his shoulder and back, but Chanyeol is laughing too hard to let him go, and in the end, Chanyeol trips and they both fall to the water in a heap of limbs and shrieks.   
  
“It’s cold! It’s so cold, fuck!” Baekhyun ambles over to the sand, dripping wet, and sits down to take off his shoes. “I hate you so much, Park Chanyeol, don’t even try to come near me!”  
  
Still laughing, Chanyeol takes off his coat, and plops down beside Baekhyun. He kisses Baekhyun’s cheek, and grins widely when he doesn’t meet any resistance. “See! You still like me!”  
  
“You’re lucky I’m not running to the car right now and leaving you here stranded forever,” Baekhyun retorts.   
  
Chanyeol pouts, and he knows he must look ridiculous, being the grown ass man that he is, but it makes Baekhyun smile ever-so-slightly. “Who would let you rub your cold feet on theirs at night if you leave me here?”  
  
“I’ll use socks from now on.” Baekhyun takes off his coat and lays it over the sand. “They’re way more efficient and trustworthy than guys who dump me in the water.”  
  
Chanyeol chuckles. He hooks his chin over Baekhyun’s shoulder, sneaking his arms around his waist and draping his body over his back. “I’ll warm you up just fine, don’t worry.”  
  
“Don’t try to sweet-talk me! It won’t work!”  
  
Baekhyun pretends to ignore him, chin held high, but it doesn’t last long—a little devious smile makes its way to his lips and a kiss to Chanyeol’s jaw. Chanyeol plunges in before Baekhyun can pull away, and their lips meet soft and gentle, like the hand that comes up to cup his face tenderly. He knows the shape of Baekhyun’s mouth well by now, has explored it until he goes lightheaded and pliant in the past, but Baekhyun still manages to make him feel like each kiss is the first, and he will never be kissed in this way again. If Chanyeol is truly honest with himself, none of the guys he dated after Baekhyun quite lived up to this.  
  
Baekhyun twists to face Chanyeol, throwing his arms over his shoulders and kissing him harder. His tongue slips into his mouth, and Chanyeol sucks it, savouring the low whimper he gets in response. Chanyeol’s hand sneaks under Baekhyun’s sweater, riding it up and feeling the smooth, damp skin of Baekhyun’s hips, and stopping on the graceful curve of his waist. Baekhyun presses forward until Chanyeol is propped on his elbows, wasting no time to seal their lips together again. He’s a perfect fit between Chanyeol’s legs, keening high when their tongues swirl in their mouths, and the rocking of their hips shifts from slow to frantic.  
  
“Um, I think we should… go back to the car…” Chanyeol murmurs in between kisses, patting Baekhyun’s butt to get his attention. “Baekhyun, there are children here.”  
  
Baekhyun laughs into his mouth, then he pulls away and stands up. “Okay, let’s go. I don’t wanna corrupt the young.” A wicked grin appears on his face all of a sudden. “Race you!”  
  
Before Chanyeol can know what’s happening, Baekhyun takes off. Chanyeol scrambles to get up and then he’s rushing to catch up with him.   
  
  
  
  


❦❦❦

  
  
  
  
  
“This is so much better,” says Baekhyun, rubbing his hands together. They’ve turned on the heater and seat warmers, covered by blankets they found in Jongdae’s trunk.   
  
Chanyeol drags Baekhyun closer by his arm around his waist, and pecks him on the cheek. “Am I truly forgiven now?”  
  
Baekhyun pretends to think about it, wrinkling his nose until tiny lines appear near the end of it, and Chanyeol smiles at how adorable he looks. “Maybe,” Baekhyun answers in the end.   
  
He knows Baekhyun is playing with him, but he wants to play along. “What should I do, then?”  
  
He drags his lips over Baekhyun’s cheek and kisses the corner of his mouth, and lingers there, deliberately, until Baekhyun caves and holds his face in his hands to kiss him. Chanyeol balances himself on the door handle to pull Baekhyun into his lap with his other hand, swallowing Baekhyun’s groan as he threads his fingers through Chanyeol’s hair. Baekhyun licks into his mouth before sucking on his bottom lip, letting out a breathy laugh at Chanyeol’s grunt when he pairs this with a slow roll of his hips. He nuzzles Baekhyun’s neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses over his skin, enjoying the little hiccups Baekhyun makes in response. He breathes in Baekhyun’s scent; the sweet fragrance of his hair, the musky smell of his body… It’s all so intoxicating, it makes Chanyeol lightheaded with the familiarity of it, like coming home after a long trip.   
  
“God, I love your smell,” he whispers into the column of Baekhyun’s neck. “You used to wear those expensive colognes in college, but I always loved your natural smell more.”  
  
“Hey, I spent some good bucks on those,” Baekhyun protests, but Chanyeol can hear the smile on his voice. “Or at least my parents did.” Baekhyun tugs on his hair to lift Chanyeol’s head, and he sees for himself the beautiful smile spread on Baekhyun’s lips. “And this is going to be really embarrassing… but I did it mostly to impress, well, you.”  
  
Chanyeol chuckles, and the butterflies banging on his ribs are now raving. “Really, now? I’m very flattered.”  
  
Baekhyun digs his knuckles into Chanyeol’s chest, laughing as he mutters, “Shut up.” He leans in to drop a few chaste kisses on his mouth, then kisses him slowly and deeply, his thumb caressing his jaw. His hand sneaks under Chanyeol’s shirt and moves upwards until he’s circling Chanyeol’s nipple, his breath stuttering. He bites Baekhyun’s lower lip in retaliation, groaning when Baekhyun alternates between pinching and stroking his his nipple with his fingers; all of this paired with the soft caress of his tongue in his mouth makes Chanyeol feel lightheaded again.   
  
Baekhyun stamps a kiss on Chanyeol’s lips before he’s leaning against the armrest, grabbing Chanyeol’s hand until he’s looming over Baekhyun.  
  
“Should we really be doing this in Jongdae’s car?” Chanyeol asks absently, but really, he’s too turned on too truly care, and Baekhyun’s answering snort gives him the push he needs.  
  
“Who cares,” Baekhyun whispers, lifting his head to kiss him, fingers tangling in his hair to drag him down.   
  
Chanyeol jumps when Baekhyun dives under his pants and past his underwear, taking his cock in his hand. His strokes are fast and relentless, and all Chanyeol can do is whimper pathetically against Baekhyun’s shoulder.  
  
“Wait,” he mutters, clamping a hand over Baekhyun’s wrist to stop him. The disgruntled look he gets in return should’ve made him cower, but he makes quick work of unzipping Baekhyun’s pants. “Let me just—”  
  
He pushes down Baekhyun’s boxers with clumsy hands, but it’s all worth it for the whimper Baekhyun releases when Chanyeol gets a grip of his cock.   
  
“Hello,” Chanyeol murmurs with glee. “Long time no see.”  
  
“Don’t talk to my dick, you creep,” Baekhyun laughs, slapping Chanyeol’s shoulder. His mirth is quickly taken over by pleasure when Chanyeol flicks his wrist, and it’s such an arousing sight, he would love to admire it forever.   
  
Once Baekhyun lines their members to stroke them in tandem, Chanyeol is too far gone to care about being quiet; he moans loudly into Baekhyun’s mouth, trading sloppy kisses for their noises. When the pleasure mounts and crests, they abandon any effort on kissing and resort to panting openly into each other’s mouths, their breaths mingling with incoherent words.  
  
Chanyeol comes with a loud groan, burying his head in Baekhyun’s shoulder, body trembling as he crashes down from his high. Baekhyun comes not long after with a grunt delivered to Chanyeol’s ear, followed by a breathless laugh that twines itself around Chanyeol’s heart and squeezes. Baekhyun kisses the shell of his ear, fingers weaving through his hair, until Chanyeol gets the message and turns his face to kiss Baekhyun, messily but passionately, just like he wants.  
  
“Well, now I’m disgusting,” Baekhyun breathes into his mouth.   
  
Chanyeol looks down to see the mess splattered over the front of Baekhyun’s sweatshirt, and bursts into a peal of laughter, that subdues only after Baekhyun pinches his arm.   
  
“Don’t laugh,” Baekhyun reproaches, although his smile belies his tone. “This is partly your fault.”  
  
“I’m sorry.” Chanyeol kisses Baekhyun’s cheek. “You can wear my sweatshirt if you want.”  
  
The selflessness in his offer disguises his self-indulgence—one of his favorite things in the world was seeing Baekhyun wearing his clothes while they were dating, and by the twinkle in Baekhyun’s eyes at the proposal, Chanyeol figures he isn’t alone in this.  
  
“I’d really like that,” Baekhyun says, leaning forward to capture his lips. “I can’t wait for you to take it off me next time.”  
  
 _Next time_ , Chanyeol repeats, the words ricocheting off the walls of his mind. It would be a good time to pose the question, but soon all thoughts are put on the backburner in favour of Baekhyun’s tongue chasing his with zeal and the delicious way his body moves underneath him, warm and solid, like one of Chanyeol’s best dreams come true.  
  
  
  
  


❦❦❦

  
  
  
  
  
Baekhyun decides to make a stop in the same gas station they had pulled up in the way to Busan. When Chanyeol is paying for his bags of chips and drinks, he eyes the condom packages on the counter, wondering whether he should buy some or not; he doesn’t know if Baekhyun will want to stay around in his apartment for a bit once they arrive in Suwon or they’ll go on their separate ways. He’d gone in the public toilet to practice how to pop up the question in front of the mirror—with the word  _dick_  written in bold letter across it—, but nerves were still eating him when he’d come out. The possibility of Baekhyun rejecting him is terrifying enough that he keeps convincing himself to not ask the question at all, only to berate himself a minute later for being a coward.  
  
When he realizes the girl at the register is giving him a weird look, he pays quickly and leaves.  
  
Baekhyun is leaning against the side of the car, arms crossed over his chest, when Chanyeol leaves the convenience store. Want stirs in Chanyeol’s belly at the sight of Baekhyun wearing his sweatshirt, but his expression is what steals Chanyeol’s attention. He seems lost in thought, and only looks up when Chanyeol stands in front of him.  
  
“I bought some snacks.” Chanyeol shows him the plastic bag dangling from his fingers. The seriousness on Baekhyun’s face doesn’t dissipate. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“Chanyeol…” Baekhyun starts. He leans away from the car, and licks his lips, looking about as though not knowing how to put his next words. “Remember the job in Seoul I told you about?”  
  
Chanyeol’s gut clenches. “What about it?”  
  
“Well, I was thinking, since I’m going to be living alone and you’re looking for a job, too…” He lets the sentence hang in the air, teeth worrying over his bottom lip. He’s fiddling with the hem of his sweater, still not meeting Chanyeol’s eyes. “I was thinking… what if you came and live with me in Seoul?”  
  
It takes a moment for the magnitude of what Baekhyun is asking him to dawn on him. He hadn’t thought about  _that_  option—he’d always fitted his future with Baekhyun in the little timeframe they had before Baekhyun left for Seoul. The thought of being together beyond that hadn’t crossed his mind; it terrifies him as much as it excites him, and it’s all too much to take at once.  
  
“Oh.” His mouth has gone cottony. “I don’t know, Baek… Isn’t it too sudden? I mean, we just met after years of not seeing each other. I can’t just up and leave everything in Suwon—my life is there, my friends, my family…”   
  
“You said himself you needed to get a move on with your life,” Baekhyun insists. “Do you want to work at your family’s restaurant your whole life? What are you going to do with that master’s degree of yours?”  
  
“Yes, I said that,” Chanyeol says, the tendrils of frustration crawling up in his throat. “But I’ll do that at my own pace. I’m not going to leave everything behind because you show up one day and offer me to move in with you to the city. It’s just not how it works.”  
  
“I was just trying to help you do what you wanted!” His voice is raising in volume now, and Chanyeol’s exasperation rises with it. “And this way we could be together, too!”  
  
“I don’t  _need_  help,” Chanyeol bites back. “I don’t want you to offer me this because you feel obliged to, either.”  
  
“I didn’t.” Baekhyun’s anger colors the sound of his voice. “I genuinely want to be with you, but I guess this is it now.”   
  
Chanyeol’s heart sinks in his chest. “This is it?”  
  
Baekhyun shrugs, a jerky lift of his shoulders. He looks to the side, his lips folded in, and Chanyeol can tell, with a horrible lurch in his stomach, that he’s trying to blink back tears.  
  
“Well, I gave it a shot at least,” Baekhyun whispers. “What else is there to do.”  
  
“I’m sorry, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol says. “But I don’t think I can do what you’re asking me.”  
  
Baekhyun nods slowly. “Okay, let’s go.” He turns suddenly, and rounds the car to go back to the driver’s seat. “I don’t wanna drive all night.”  
  
Chanyeol clambers on the passenger’s seat, slamming the door shut. He slouches in his seat, staring out his window and forcing himself to stop thinking about Baekhyun’s crestfallen face when he’d rejected his offer.  
  
  
  
  


❦❦❦

  
  
  
  
  
Baekhyun drops him off at his apartment hours later, when they’re back in Suwon. He’s silent when the engine shuts off, and the silence seems to weigh on Chanyeol like bricks over his shoulders. Baekhyun is facing ahead, his features stone cold, all the softness and cheerfulness that Chanyeol loved drained out of him.  
  
Through his distress, Chanyeol manages to find his voice. “Baekhyun, can we talk about—”  
  
“Just go, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun cuts in. “The trip is over. You need to go home.”  
  
“Baekhyun, it doesn’t have to be like this,” Chanyeol says. “We can talk about this, and maybe we’ll find a solution—”  
  
“What solution, Chanyeol?” Baekhyun snaps back. “I already gave you a solution, and you turned it down. We’re going to be apart again, and there’s nothing else we can do about it. There’s nothing to talk about.”  
  
Chanyeol had forgotten about Baekhyun’s stubbornness, and it reemerges now as a grudging old friend. Chanyeol’s jaw clenches, his fist closing and opening over his lap as his heart finally cracks into a million little pieces.   
  
“So that’s it?” He hates the defeat in his own voice, but he’s not in the position to care, right now. “The trip is over so this is the end for us?”  
  
Baekhyun’s gaze never strays from the windshield when he replies, flatly, “I guess so.”  
  
Chanyeol sits there staring into space for a while, winded by the blow of Baekhyun’s words. He wants to say something, maybe for Baekhyun to reconsider his words, but his mind is a blank, overcome by the hollowness extending from the pit of his stomach.   
  
“Okay, then.” His voice sounds foreign to his own ears. “Goodbye, Baekhyun.”  
  
He gets out of the car in a hurry, and slams the cap of the trunk when he unloads his luggage, despite knowing it’s not Jongdae’s car’s fault that the most amazing weekend he’s ever had ended up this way. When he’s halfway up the trail to his apartment complex, he turns to see Baekhyun still parked in the curb, watching him. The engine comes to life, and the car drives away, Chanyeol’s heart sinking deeper within himself.  
  
“And that was that,” Chanyeol murmurs, then he picks up his bag, and enters the building.  
  
  
  
  


❦❦❦

  
  
  
  
  
Chanyeol didn’t think that Baekhyun’s absence, the second time around, would be worse than the first.   
  
The silence of his apartment, once he gets back to it, is unsettling. After spending the weekend with Baekhyun, he’s almost waiting for his laughter to explode or a joke to be told with a low voice. Instead all he gets is the ticking of the clock in the kitchen, and the low murmur of voices from his neighbour’s tv. He almost laughs with relief when he goes to work the next morning, and he can joke around with Yoora and Sehun, and hug his mother, but the thoughts of Baekhyun still linger, and he catches himself thinking about him during conversations or when he’s jotting down a customer's order. It gets to the point where he almost dreads going back to his apartment and the loneliness that awaits behind its walls, how he wishes he could come home to a specific someone waiting for him.  
  
A week after the trip, while he was finally cleaning his suitcase, he finds a grey shirt he doesn’t recognize at first. When he takes a good look at it, images of Baekhyun wearing it at the guesthouse come to him unbidden, and so does the ache that floods his chest. He tucks it in a corner of his drawer and leaves it there.  
  
Sehun takes him to a pub when their shift ends on a Friday.  _I’m done seeing you mope around_ , he tells Chanyeol. But Chanyeol didn’t need much convincing—he needed to get a drink. The last place he had applied to hadn’t gotten back to him, and the disappointment is still bitter in his mouth when he takes the first cold seep of his beer.  
  
“That sucks, man,” Sehun says. The comment is handed in a flat tone, but Chanyeol knows Sehun well enough to tell he does care. “But at least you still have a job in the meantime.”  
  
“No offense, but I don’t want to keep working there forever.” Chanyeol lays his head on the table. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”  
  
“Have you thought about moving out?”   
  
Chanyeol’s head shoots up at that. “What?”  
  
“Moving out,” Sehun repeats. “Like applying to jobs in other cities because by now we all know there aren’t many chances to get one here.”  
  
“I don’t know,” Chanyeol mutters. “It’s kind of hard… my mom is here and so is Yoora, you know.”  
  
“Well, if you wanna do what you want you have to make sacrifices sometimes.”   
  
Sehun is in his last year of college and set to start a job in marine biology in Ansan once he graduates. Chanyeol didn’t have that luck. He remembers Baekhyun’s face at the gas station, and how this, what Sehun is telling him, is basically what Baekhyun had offered him as well.  
  
Jongdae had called him a couple of days after the trip, and begrudgingly, he’d said, “I can’t believe you’re making me talk about feelings again, but I think you need to talk to him. You know how hotheaded that idiot can be.”  
  
“I’ll think about it.” It was the same thing he’d told Jongdae on the phone, and just like Jongdae, it doesn’t appease Sehun. But unlike Jongdae, Sehun doesn’t say anything else.  
  
He goes home with the sting of Baekhyun’s absence in his chest and Sehun’s words swirling in his head, like the dregs of beer at the bottom of his glass. When he gets to his apartment, propelled by the alcohol flowing through his veins, he finally caves; he pulls Baekhyun’s shirt out of his drawer and goes to bed with it.   
  
It’s the first time since he returned from the trip that he has a restful sleep.  
  
  
  
  


❦❦❦

  
  
  
  
  
“Chanyeol, are you okay?”  
  
Chanyeol lifts his head to find his sister looking at him, a perfectly groomed eyebrow cocked. “What?”  
  
“You’ve been staring at that bottle of soju for a good minute there,” she says, a smile creeping to her lips. “If you wanna have a drink, you better wait until we close.”  
  
“Uh, sorry,” he mumbles, putting the empty bottle back on his tray. He’d been hit with the memories of drinking with Baekhyun at the BBQ restaurant during their trip, the way Baekhyun’s eyes lit up when he laughed sitting across from him, and the nostalgia had overwhelmed him. “I’m okay, don’t worry.”  
  
“Is there something you want to talk about?” she asks, feigning disinterest as she gathers the cutlery from a table. “You’ve been kind of quiet lately… I’m not used to you not talking my ear off whenever we have a shift together.”  
  
He’s about to assure her he’s okay again when he catches Yoora’s furtive glance, the concern in the minute furrow of her brow. And he decides, what the hell—he’s been moping on his own for too long, he needs someone to talk to about this.   
  
“Actually, it’s about someone,” he admits. That gets her full attention; she turns to him with surprise, before it melts into a questioning smile. “Someone I met a while ago.”  
  
“I think we have some time to talk right now.” She leaves her tray on an empty table, and sits on the closest one to them, inviting Chanyeol to do the same with a nod of her head. “So, who’s this person? Tell me all about them.”  
  
There’s a mischievous gleam to her eyes, her chin set in her hand as she waits for Chanyeol to speak. “He’s Baekhyun,” he says after a moment. “From college.”  
  
Yoora had been there for the wreck that was Chanyeol when Baekhyun left the first time; she would make the trek to campus just to bring him their mom’s food, watch lame movies with him until Chanyeol fell asleep on her shoulder, and had joined efforts with Jongdae in a hopeless attempt to talk shit about Baekhyun to cheer Chanyeol up and help him move on.   
  
Chanyeol almost expects it when her smile slips at the mention of his name. “Oh,” she says. “Him.” The smile is back on again, but Chanyeol can tell is strained. “Did you guys meet at the wedding?”  
  
“Jongdae offered to give him a ride and then he couldn’t make the trip with us so he told Baekhyun to drive me there,” he tells her, eyes drifting to the table. “And we sort of…  _reconnected_  during the trip.”  
  
Yoora’s eyebrows raise, her mouth pursing when she catches the hint. “But isn’t he the guy who left one day and never contacted you again?” she asks, her tone quiet and careful.   
  
“He is,” Chanyeol says, biting his lip before he adds, “He’s come back from Japan and been living here recently.”  
  
“And you didn’t know?” Her smile is small and cautious. “You guys can try again now, right? You might want to take it slow first, though.”  
  
Chanyeol knows her support stems from their sibling bond, but it still flusters him when he says, “He got a job offer in Seoul so he’s leaving in a couple of weeks.”  
  
“What—he’s leaving?” Her eyes widen even more than usual in surprise. One end of her mouth curves with disbelief. “Again?”  
  
Chanyeol sighs, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. “I know, I’m so stupid,” he mutters. “I knew what I was getting into when we got together, but I still did it.”  
  
“It’s alright.” Yoora holds his hand over the table, her thumb stroking the back of it. She falls silent for a long time, and Chanyeol focuses on the soft caress of her thumb. “I don’t really know what to tell you, to be honest,” says Yoora, at length. “Did you guys talk about what you’d do after the trip?”  
  
“He offered me to move in with him to Seoul,” Chanyeol says. “But I chickened out and turned him down… My whole life is here, you know. I can’t just leave everything behind to chase after him. And what if he told me that just to make me feel better, but he doesn’t really mean it? Or worst of all, what if I do move in with him, but he realizes it was a mistake? What am I going to do, then?”  
  
“Calm down,” Yoora says, laughing. “You’re going to burn that big head of yours if you keep overthinking like this.” She purses her mouth as she thinks over it, the fingers of her other hand tracing idle patterns on the tablecloth. “I think maybe you were still waiting for him to leave so you never made any plans beyond that. People don’t have to leave all the time, Chanyeol.”  
  
Yoora has always had a way of saying the things Chanyeol struggles to put into words. And right now, she has gotten right at the heart of the matter and pierced Chanyeol with the truth.  
  
“I’m going to ask you this, but you need to be really honest.” A pause, where Yoora stares right through his very core. “Are you in love with him?”  
  
The answer comes to Chanyeol as easy and natural as breathing. “Yes,” Chanyeol replies, without a second thought. “I love him as much as I used to when we were dating years ago, and maybe even more so now.”  
  
His answer makes Yoora smile brightly. “He must love you the same way if he wants to make that kind of commitment with you. I know that’s not the full answer to all of this, but I think that you’re a step closer to it.  _I_  think you should get out of this town and do something with your life,” Yoora says, solemnly. Then her expression softens, a gentle smile curling her lips. “But in the end, this decision is yours to make.”   
  
Chanyeol remembers the sadness in Baekhyun’s face at the gas station, the resignation in the slump of his shoulders.  _I gave it a shot at least_. Then there’s the old memory of standing in his dorm room, alone with the echo of the door Baekhyun had just closed behind himself.  
  
Chanyeol groans, hiding his face in his hands. “I don’t know, Yoora.” His mind is as much of a tangle of thoughts as it had been an hour ago.  
  
Yoora pats his back, and the chair scrapes against the floor as she stands. “I’ll bring the bottle of whisky mom has stashed in the back.”   
  
“Thanks,” he mutters, and drops his head to the table. It’s going to be a long night.  
  
  
  
  


❦❦❦

  
  
  
  
  
Chanyeol wakes the next morning to a dull ache throbbing behind his eyes. There’s a glass and a couple of aspirins next to it on the nightstand, and he vaguely remembers Yoora and her boyfriend taking him to his apartment last night, after he had stumbled out of the restaurant and almost face-planted on the pavement, if it hadn’t been for them catching him at the last minute.   
  
He pops the aspirins in his mouth and drinks the whole glass of water, and curls up in his bed under the covers. He’s never been one to sleep in, but he’d really use some sleep right now to avoid the ache in his head. Slipping his hand under his pillow, he finds the black shirt Baekhyun had left in his luggage. A memory of Baekhyun wearing the shirt in their room at the guesthouse flashes in his mind, and before he knows it, he’s pressing his face into the fabric, breathing in the scent that still lingers until his lungs burn.   
  
Back when Baekhyun had first left, Chanyeol had been sure that the hole in his chest would eventually heal, but knew, with the kind of certainty one has about irrevocable things, that there would be a part of him who would never stop missing him. Now he doesn’t feel quite the same ache again—it’s a deeper gap, after having a taste of Baekhyun again, as if an intrinsic part of him has been carved out, and the knowledge that, even though he’s lost him, Baekhyun is here, right here, but out of his reach.   
  
And sure, he thinks he can live like that again—he lost Baekhyun once, he could live with his absence again—, but it would be a less brighter life, like those art replicas where the colors aren’t quite the right shade. He would laugh at work with his sister and Sehun as usual, but there would be the urge of sharing the joke with someone when he got home, the constant feeling that something is missing, and the cold when he went to bed at night that would linger with him long after morning came.   
  
He thinks life would be a lot easier if he got to see Baekhyun’s smile every day, if he got to kiss him goodbye before he went to work, and greet him when he came back in the evening. If he got to hold him when he slept at night, and woke up to his face next to him in the morning.  
  
And Yoora was right—if Baekhyun didn’t love him he wouldn’t be willing to make this sort of commitment with him. Chanyeol’s heart swells at the thought that Baekhyun wants him in his life as much Chanyeol does.  
  
He looks up jobs in Seoul when he’s making dinner that night, and when he fills in the first application, he feels much lighter than he has in two weeks.  
  
  
  
  


❦❦❦

  
  
  
  
  
Chanyeol’s phone rings in the pocket of his trousers for the third time in the past hour. He’s too busy to check who it is—the restaurant is always busy during lunch time, and today there are no empty tables left.  
  
He’s been running to and fro all day, and only stops when Yoora elbows him on the side.  
  
“I think someone’s here to see you.”   
  
There’s a conspiratorial air to her voice, but he doesn’t spare her more than a glance. “If it’s Jongin asking for chicken leftovers tell him he can come by later.”  
  
A second nudge, more forceful this time, and now he does look up. Baekhyun is waiting by the entry, a paper bag in hand, and the words die in his tongue.  
  
“You better go now,” Yoora tells him. “I’ll cover for you.”  
  
Before he can get a word out, Yoora is pushing him towards the front of the restaurant. Baekhyun smiles tentatively when Chanyeol approaches.  
  
“Hi,” Baekhyun says, shyly. “I tried to call you first, but you didn’t pick up.”  
  
“Yeah, I’m a little busy right now,” Chanyeol says. He doesn’t mean it to sound curt, but Baekhyun flinches under his words.  
  
It doesn’t deter him, though. “Can I talk to you for a moment? It’s important.”  
  
He hates to leave all the work on Yoora and Sehun, but he figures he could repay them later. Knowing them, it will surely cost him a good chunk of his pay and pride. “Okay.”  
  
He leads Baekhyun to the alley next to the restaurant, where he steps off after his shift to dump the garbage and get some air—although, the air presently doesn’t smell so fresh.  
  
“What is that?” Baekhyun asks. “It smells like something died in here.”  
  
He’s wrinkling his nose in that way Chanyeol can’t resist, and it takes everything in him not to drag Baekhyun close and kiss him. He clears his throat. “Something probably did.”  
  
“Anyways, I came to see you because I wanted to give you this.” Baekhyun pulls out a black bundle from his paper bag, and hands it to Chanyeol. “It’s the sweatshirt you lent me on the trip. I wanted to give it back before I left.”  
  
The image of Baekhyun wearing his sweatshirt in Jongdae’s car while Chanyeol held him in his arms closes around his throat, so his words come out in a choked sound. “Thanks, Baekhyun.”  
  
A spell of silence falls over them, and Chanyeol racks up his brain for what to say next. As always, Baekhyun beats him to it.  
  
“Chanyeol, listen.” Frustration colors the sigh Baekhyun expels. “As you probably guessed already, this was just some lame excuse to see you—because I wanted to talk to you and apologize for the other day. It wasn’t okay to spring that on you, and you had all the right to turn me down. I’ve been thinking a lot since that day and I’m terribly sorry for being an asshole—”  
  
“Hey, hey, Baekhyun.” Baekhyun draws in a deep breath, and Chanyeol laughs nervously. “It’s alright.”  
  
Baekhyun’s eyes are searching, almost pleading as they flit over Chanyeol’s face. “Really?” His throat works. “Because I am, Chanyeol. I’m really sorry.”  
  
“I’m sorry, too.” The movement of his hand towards Baekhyun’s is resounding to his own ears. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you and assumed things.”  
  
“It’s okay,” he whispers, too preoccupied with his hand swallowed by Chanyeol’s bigger one. “We were both dumb.”  
  
Chanyeol laughs, delightfully light, like the breeze tousling Baekhyun’s hair. “We were.” His phone rings in his pocket; Yoora’s signal that his time is up. “I have to go back inside—Yoora is covering for me and the place is packed.”  
  
“Can we talk later?” Baekhyun asks. Two of his fingers tug at Chanyeol’s sleeve, and his whole heart caves with the minute gesture.   
  
“I’ll go see you,” Chanyeol offers, a slight waver to his voice that he clears with a gulp. “If you want to.”  
  
Baekhyun’s shoulders sag, his face lightening up with relief. “Of course I do.”   
  
Chanyeol can’t help the smile that snaps on his lips. “Okay, I’ll see you after my shift.”  
  
“Wait!”   
  
The bag drops to the ground, and Baekhyun steps into Chanyeol’s space, a hand digging into his hair to bring his head down and kiss him. The press of Baekhyun’s lips is and sweet and relentless, and so infinitely familiar, it steals Chanyeol’s breath from his lungs. It ends too soon—Baekhyun breaks away, and the exhale he releases tastes of yearning over Chanyeol’s mouth.   
  
“I couldn’t help myself,” Baekhyun whispers. “I was right. You  _do_  look cute in this waiter get-up.” He pats Chanyeol’s ass and lets go. “Now go back inside before your sister comes out to murder me.”  
  
Chanyeol doesn’t have to be told twice; he’s far too familiar with Yoora’s temper. “I’ll see you later!”  
  
He doesn’t sneak a glance over his shoulder when he closes the back door behind himself, or else he’d be tempted to stay with Baekhyun in the deserted alley, kissing him senseless against the dirty wall.   
  
  
  
  


❦❦❦

  
  
  
  
  
  
Chanyeol knocks on Baekhyun’s door a little after five in the afternoon. Baekhyun opens the door on the second rap of Chanyeol’s knuckles, and the smile he gives him when he sees Chanyeol makes him want to forget about the whole talk and sweep him off his feet to kiss him.   
  
“Hey.” Baekhyun steps aside to let Chanyeol in. “I’m glad you made it.”  
  
Baekhyun’s apartment is small, made even smaller by the boxes that litter the space, and the few pieces of furniture in the living room are bare. The kitchen and living room area are separated by a counter, where mugs and plates are waiting to be stored.  
  
“Do you want something to drink?” Baekhyun asks, pointing over his shoulder to the kitchen. “I was going to make some tea.”  
  
“Wait.” Chanyeol grabs Baekhyun’s hand, and Baekhyun stops, eyes flicking from his hand to Chanyeol. Chanyeol thinks about the grand conclusion he’d come to, but instead, he blurts out, “I love you.”  
  
Baekhyun freezes, staring at Chanyeol like he’s sputtered another head.  _Great_ , Chanyeol thinks,  _you really did it this time_. With his heart in his throat, he waits for Baekhyun to let him down gently, or kick him out of his apartment, but Baekhyun grins, baring all teeth and crinkly eyes.  
  
“That’s not how I imagined this conversation to start,” Baekhyun laughs, low and blissful. “But I guess you’ve always had a way to say what needs to be said.”  
  
He knows Baekhyun is poking fun at him, but his ears tingle with heat all the same. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I wasn’t supposed to say that—at least not right now.”   
  
“It’s okay.” Baekhyun draws Chanyeol closer by his sweater and stands on his tiptoes to drop a kiss to his lips, accompanied by a quiet, “I love you, too.” He slides his arms over Chanyeol’s shoulders, his fingers threading through his hair, angling his head to kiss him deeper. Chanyeol’s inhale mingles with Baekhyun’s hums of pleasure, and in a second, he’s tangling his arms over Baekhyun’s waist, plunging in when Baekhyun means to pull back.   
  
“I missed you so much,” Chanyeol murmurs over Baekhyun’s lips. “You don’t know how much—”  
  
“Oh, I  _do_  know,” Baekhyun says with a breathless laugh. “I was going crazy, knowing you were right here, that I could see you in the street or at the store.” A firm kiss is pressed to Chanyeol’s lips. “I paced in front of the door for half an hour before you got here.”  
  
“I’m glad we were in the same boat.” He dips to kiss the mole over Baekhyun’s top lip, and savours the blissful sigh that rushes through Baekhyun. “Because it was also driving me nuts, not having you like this.”  
  
“I’m so sorry for making you feel pressured the other day.” He cups Chanyeol’s face, thumb stroking over his cheekbones. “It wasn’t my intention, but I thought it would be a good opportunity to bring it up, and I knew how much you would be leaving here, so it was so selfish of me to ask—”  
  
“It’s okay,” Chanyeol assures him, caressing Baekhyun’s hair. “I thought about it long and hard, and I think… I’d love to move in with you.”   
  
“Really?” Baekhyun asks, an incredulous whisper. “You would really leave everything here? Your family and your friends? Are you sure about this?”  
  
“I need to do something with my life, and you came in the perfect time to shake me up a little,” Chanyeol says. “I already talked to my mom about it, and she was really happy—I think she was waiting for me to do something like this for a while.”   
  
Baekhyun’s grin strains his cheeks, eyes cut into crescent shapes, and glowing with the same kind of happiness that fills Chanyeol to the brim. Chanyeol can’t help but lean in and kiss him.   
  
“Now you’re gonna have to put up with my cold feet on yours forever,” Baekhyun tells him. “I leave the toilet lid up all the time, and I can’t cook to save my life, so this is what’s waiting for you. You can still back out.”  
  
“You just need some training,” Chanyeol laughs. “As long as you don’t get a dog, we’re good.” He holds Baekhyun’s face in his hand, foreheads touching. “I’d prefer that a million times over not waking up next to you everyday.”  
  
Baekhyun wrinkles his nose, and unable to help himself, Chanyeol does kiss the tip this time. “Cheesy.” He stokes Chanyeol’s ear and the hair behind it. “When did you turn into such a sap, Park? Or is old age getting to you already?”  
  
“Maybe,” says Chanyeol. He lifts Baekhyun’s chin with two fingers, and kisses him, stealing whatever words Baekhyun was about to utter. Baekhyun goes limp in his arms, but his lips move fervently over his, his tongue stroking Chanyeol’s in his mouth, soft and warm and intoxicating.   
  
Chanyeol’s hand travels over Baekhyun’s waist, caressing his smooth skin, until his sweatshirt rides up over his chest, savouring the little gasp Baekhyun releases when he finds his nipples. Baekhyun bites on Chanyeol’s bottom lip, sweeping his tongue over it, his breath stuttering when Chanyeol pinches his nipple. Baekhyun’s mouth moves to trail kisses along his jaw, and lower to his neck, sucking on a patch of skin underneath his ear, and then laving his tongue over the area.  
  
“Chanyeol...” Baekhyun mouths, breath hot over damp skin. “Are you sure about this?”  
  
Chanyeol knows Baekhyun doesn’t mean simply their move to Seoul, but what’s happening between them, right now. “I am sure.” His grip over Baekhyun’s hips tightens meaningfully. “I want you.”  
  
“You don’t need to think about it long and hard?”   
  
Chanyeol huffs a laugh. “Shut up. Don’t ruin the mood.”  
  
Baekhyun kisses his chin sweetly, then leads him by the hand to his bedroom. When they’re standing at the foot his bed, he kisses him again, wrapping his arms over Chanyeol’s shoulders. Chanyeol sighs into his mouth, content with staying like this, kissing Baekhyun until his lips tingle and become numb, but Baekhyun has other plans in mind; his hand rides Chanyeol’s sweater over his torso, and Chanyeol pulls away to lift it over his head and toss it aside. Baekhyun helps him get out of his pants, and once they’re on the floor, he drops to his knees, sliding Chanyeol’s boxers down his legs and leaving them in a pool over his discarded pants.  
  
His half-lidded eyes, dripping with want, are fixed on Chanyeol as he takes his cock in his hand, stroking it slowly, and then sucks the tip into his mouth. Chanyeol tilts his head back with a groan, his fingers threading through Baekhyun’s hair as his lips bobs up and down over his cock.   
  
“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol says, breathless, tugging on his hair to get his attention. “Stop now, or I’m going to…”  
  
Baekhyun laughs, raspy and raw, and the sound coils Chanyeol’s guts into a neat knot. “So soon, puppy?”   
  
He undresses himself, throwing his clothes carelessly aside, and then grabs Chanyeol’s hand as he climbs on the bed, the springs creaking as he lies down on the mattress. He rests on his elbows as he looks at Chanyeol with half-closed eyes, and the low simmer of want in Chanyeol is too much to bare. He cradles Baekhyun’s face in his hands, capturing his mouth, and settling between Baekhyun’s legs, swallowing his moan when their bodies met. Baekhyun kisses him back with eagerness, his hands gliding over his back, and one of them grabbing his butt cheek. Chanyeol laughs into Baekhyun mouth, nipping his bottom lip in retaliation. Chanyeol nuzzles Baekhyun’s neck, breathing in his sweet scent, that smell that drives Chanyeol crazy.  
  
He leaves a trail of wet kisses over his Baekhyun’s body, enjoying Baekhyun’s hands in his hair, and the way his body writhes under him, knowing that it’s what he’s doing to him. He kisses Baekhyun’s abdomen open-mouthed, nuzzling his face into its softness, and relishing in his smell.   
  
“What are you doing?” Baekhyun asks, his words threaded in a breathless laugh. “Stop it, weirdo, you’re tickling me.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol laughs. “It’s just that I love your tummy… I missed laying my head on it.”  
  
The look on Baekhyun’s face gentles, his hand stroking Chanyeol’s hair tenderly, his voice as soft as a caress as he says, “I missed all of you.”  
  
Chanyeol leans back, and takes Baekhyun’s hand on his hair to kiss the back of it. “Me, too.” He kisses each of its knuckles, and holds it against his chest before letting it fall. “I missed you so much, every day.”  
  
Chanyeol hides his face on Baekhyun’s stomach so he doesn’t have to see him blushing. He drops a kiss there, and then he moves lower, kissing the base of Baekhyun’s cock, before he swallows it down. Baekhyun whimpers, tugging on his hair almost painfully, but it turns on a flare of desire on Chanyeol’s belly. He lets go of Baekhyun’s cock, and then he moves lower, hitching Baekhyun’s legs in the air with hands on his thighs, so he can lave his tongue over his rim. Baekhyun moans loudly, Chanyeol’s name spilling from his mouth as Chanyeol dips his tongue into his hole repeatedly, Baekhyun’s legs shivering beneath his hands.   
  
“Chanyeol...” Baekhyun pants, “Chanyeol, come here.”  
  
Chanyeol lets go of his legs and moves over Baekhyun’s body. Baekhyun slings his arms over his shoulders to pull him down, a shuddering breath rippling through him when Chanyeol’s hand slips down between his legs.   
  
When he pushes in, finally, Chanyeol leans down to taste the soft moans spilling from Baekhyun’s mouth. His whispers of  _I love you_  are mingled with his breaths, and Baekhyun returns each one of them, sealing them with a kiss on his lips or any trace of skin he could reach, and the sigh of pleasure that Baekhyun releases into his ear when he comes is as sweet and sugary as the lingering kiss he Chanyeol steals from him.  
  
Chanyeol falls asleep to Baekhyun’s heartbeat thudding steadily against his chest, and his arms safely wrapped around him, holding him like he never wants to let him go.   
  
  
  
  


❦❦❦

  
  
  
  
  
The coffee machine sputters to life as Chanyeol checks his reflection in a compact mirror. He’s managed to comb his hair into a slick coif, and even dabbed a dash of BB cream after Baekhyun had suggested it. He’s pressed into a dark grey suit that Baekhyun had helped him choose, and had taken off him hours later at home.   
  
Chanyeol smiles at the faint footsteps coming along the hallway, and the arms that wind around his middle.  
  
“Are you going already?” Baekhyun asks groggily.  
  
Chanyeol turns so he can hold Baekhyun in his arms. “Yes.” He bends to kiss Baekhyun’s forehead. “I’m making some coffee, but then I’ll be off. I don’t wanna get dirty looks for being late.” He buries his nose in Baekhyun’s hair, breathing in the fruity smell of his shampoo. “Again.”  
  
He’s finally found a job at an up-and-coming recording company, helping produce the tracks for the artists and creating some of his own in his spare time. It’s niche and small for now, but he believes in the people who works there and their talent, and knows they would make it big one day.   
  
Baekhyun always makes it hard for Chanyeol to leave in the mornings, though, with the way he walks around wearing Chanyeol’s shirts or hoodies, and nothing else.  
  
Baekhyun’s nose wrinkles at the implication and Chanyeol chuckles, dropping another kiss to Baekhyun’s head. “Okay, I won’t try anything funny today,” Baekhyun mumbles. “I don’t want you getting fired because of a quickie over the kitchen table.” Baekhyun stands in his tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “Even if I wouldn’t mind one right now.”  
  
Chanyeol groans at the image of Baekhyun bent over the table from the day before. “Don’t do this to me.” He nuzzles Baekhyun’s nose. “I haven’t left, yet , yet but I can’t wait to be home already.”  
  
“You’ll only be gone for a few hours,” Baekhyun laughs. “Besides, we’ll meet up after work, right?”  
  
The best thing about his job is that it’s a few blocks away from the school Baekhyun works at, so they often have lunch together and take the train back home.  
  
“Of course.” Another kiss to the tip of Baekhyun’s nose. “I’ll be counting down the minutes until then.”  
  
He swallows Baekhyun’s murmurs of  _so cheesy_  when he kisses him again, their mouths molded perfectly together.  
  
“I can’t wait to get you out of this suit,” Baekhyun whispers into his mouth. “We can have dinner naked in the living room.”  
  
Chanyeol laughs as he kisses Baekhyun again. “That’s unhygienic, Baekhyun.”  
  
“So is having sex in the kitchen,” Baekhyun rebuts. “But I really can’t wait for that one.”  
  
“I’ll only be gone for a few hours,” Chanyeol parrots. Baekhyun laughs, rich and joyful, when Chanyeol uses his hands to sit him on the kitchen counter, and that is the only sound he wants reverberating off his walls, the only thing he wants to come home to every day.  
  
“I waited five years to see you again,” Baekhyun murmurs. “What’s another few hours?”  
  
“So cheesy,” Chanyeol says, and dips down to taste the sliver of laughter from Baekhyun’s lips.   
  
  
  


 


End file.
